A Series of Moments
by Muffinzelda
Summary: The world according to Robbie Lewis: "Life is just a series of moments; that's all there is. Tell Moody I charge extra for that level of philosophic insight." This will be a collection of missing scenes and other whimsy from series 9. Needless to say, spoilers.
1. When all the world is a hopeless jumble

Disclaimer- This work is for fan purposes only. The characters, plot, and literary references all belong to their respective owners (not me!) and are used here without permission. Enjoy!

* * *

When all the world is a hopeless jumble...

Laura Hobson had the sensation that she was flying through the air. Maybe it was the dirt flying in her face when she was buried alive. Maybe it was a bomb blast- albeit a small one- that she had experienced vicariously through her lover. Or maybe it was a twister.

When she came to her senses, she picked herself up off the ground and stumbled around a bit, disoriented. She cautiously approached the flurry of activity in a field- about a dozen tiny SOCOs were attending a corpse. It appeared as if the victim had been crushed by a house… Laura noticed the red-sequined stiletto heeled shoes on the legs protruding from underneath the house and swore that she'd seen an identical pair on Jean Innocent the night of her karaoke leaving do. From the corner of her eye she saw the new Chief Superintendent Moody grandstanding amidst the assembled team of pint-sized SOCOs. "To whoever did this: I'll get you, and your little accomplices too!" Moody then cackled with self-congratulatory laughter.

Laura decided that she had best move on. "I don't think I'm in Oxford anymore," she whispered to no one in particular. But someone had heard her. It was the Good Sergeant of the North- Leeds, Laura suspected, judging by the sergeant's accent.

"Oxford? No, you're in Oz."

"Oz? I was supposed to go to New Zealand!" Laura said.

"Well, New Zealand's a bit far, but you're in the right part of the world, anyway. You should be able to get a quick flight from the Emerald City. Just follow the yellow brick road."

Laura thanked the Good Sergeant of the North and set out along her path.

* * *

It wasn't long before she came upon a Tin Detective, tall and rusty. She examined his statuesque form and noticed a post-it note stuck to his torso. "Come over and pick up the damn fishing poles. Love, Nell." Suspecting that the Tin Detective was a sentient being, Laura pried the oil can from his grip and began to lubricate his joints.

"Thanks," said the Tin Detective as he began to stretch his limbs. "I got caught in the rain and rusted over just like that. Who are you?"

"I'm Laura Hobson. I'm going to New Zealand to see my family."

"Ah, family. I know that I should care about my family, but I don't have a heart."

"Is Nell your family?" Laura asked.

"Nell is my sister, and the fishing poles were my father's."

"Oh, I see. I'm sorry."

"No, you're all right. Like I said, I don't have a heart. Dad is in a home with dementia. He's become a bit of a scarecrow. Not much of his brain works anymore, I'm afraid."

"Maybe you should go to see him and Nell now that you're operational again."

"No, I… can't… move." As he uttered these words, he began to stiffen up. Laura oiled him up again.

"Well, I suppose you could come to the Emerald City with me. I'm going to hop a flight from there to New Zealand, but I hear that there's a wizard there. Perhaps the wizard could give you a heart."

The Tin Detective readily agreed, so he and Laura continued along their way.

* * *

As the yellow brick road led the two through a forest, Laura heard a constant rustling of leaves behind them. She knew that someone else was with them, some sort of benevolent beast. When she and the Tin Detective stopped to rest for the night, the furry being came out from the shadows and curled up with her as she slept. He emitted a soft snore as she snuggled into his fur, not unlike a purring lion. It all seemed so natural to her that Laura didn't know exactly when he'd entered her life, only that he'd been there for a very long time.

As morning dawned, the Cowardly Inspector started to creep away again. "Don't go, Lion!" she besought him. "I'm going to New Zealand to see my family, and I want you to come with me!"

"I'm scared, Laura." The Cowardly Inspector swished his leonine tail nervously. "I can't leave Oz; my badge is only good here." He flashed his warrant card and Laura thought that she caught a glimpse of a familiar "Ro-" but something was amiss.

"Let me see that." He gingerly handed her his warrant card; she flipped opened the badge-holder and saw that it read "ROAR!"

"Very impressive, Inspector," she said ironically.

"People respect me here because of my badge. If I leave Oz, I am afraid that I'll be nothing there and forgotten here. I will go with you as far as the Emerald City, but I won't go to New Zealand. I'm sorry, love."

"I know you are," she whispered. She turned away, but he enveloped her with his furry paws and held her close. He batted her hair with his paw like a wild cat might play with its prey.

"And to think that I'm the one who doesn't have a heart," commented the Tin Detective.

* * *

After a long journey, the trio arrived at the Wizard's castle in the Emerald City. The castle reminded Laura of Oxford's prestigious colleges and dreaming spires. She walked confidently past the porter at the gate.

The porter tried to stop her, "who do you think you are, miss?"

"Laura Hobson. Clarinet. Sagittarius. Favourite colour blue." She stated irreverently.

The porter consulted his clipboard and made a tick mark on his list. "Right. But who are they?" He asked, indicating Laura's companions.

"This is the Tin Detective; he's come to see the wizard about his heart- or lack thereof. And while we're here, I thought we'd see if the wizard could give this lion a shot of courage."

"Roar," said the Cowardly Inspector timidly as he produced his warrant card from somewhere within his fur. The porter decided not to pursue the matter any further.

* * *

Laura, the Tin Detective, and the Cowardly Inspector entered the wizard's chamber where they were greeted by a disembodied voice. They identified themselves and spoke words of flattery to the wizard before making their requests.

"Have you brought me the ruby shoes and the witch's broom?" The wizard asked.

"What the devil is she going on about?" asked the Cowardly Inspector.

"I haven't the foggiest," responded Laura.

The Tin Detective too was curious. The heartless cleverclogs pulled back a nearby curtain to reveal the wizard herself holding a microphone. The three travellers stood gobsmacked.

"Why are you all staring at me like dogs being shown a card trick?" the wizard asked.

"Jean Innocent? But I thought that you…"

"That I had been promoted to the Suffolk Constabulary? Rubbish. My departure was part of a top secret plan by the uppermost echelons of the government to…"

"No," Laura interrupted. "I thought that you'd been crushed by a house."

"Oh," sighed Innocent. "Never mind then, about the top secret whatnot. How can I help you?"

"I need a heart," said the Tin Detective.

"I have just the thing," said the wizard. She proudly handed him a cactus. "Life is prickly sometimes. But that's no excuse to neglect your garden. Be honest; sometimes, you yourself are the prickly one. But even a cactus will bloom if you treat it right. Don't forget your loved ones if you don't want to be forgotten yourself."

"But that's just it; my dad's like a scarecrow who doesn't remember me. Can you help him?"

"No," said the wizard, shaking her head sadly. "Only you can do that, you and Nell together. Your heart can only be healed alongside those who love you and whom you love in return."

"I see," said the Tin Detective.

"Is there anything else?" asked the wizard.

The Cowardly Inspector approached the wizard, holding Laura's hand in his paw. "Can you do anything for me?" he asked.

"Of course," the wizard said. She raised her hands around them as if to cast a spell. Then she rather roughly banged the Inspector's head against Laura's."

"OW!" they cried in unison. The wizard's blow had worked like a charm, however.

"Forgive me, Laura, I've been a bit of a fool. A whole lot of a fool, actually. I will go to New Zealand with you after all."

"Oh Lion, are you sure?" The Inspector roared enthusiastically in response. Laura leapt up, threw her arms around his neck, and buried her face in his ample mane.

"New Zealand, is it?" The wizard asked. "I have just the thing. My hot-air balloon is waiting outside."

Laura and the Inspector bid a fond good-bye to the Tin Detective and the wizard before floating away. The Tin Detective watched as his friends grew smaller and smaller until he finally lost sight of them somewhere over the rainbow.

* * *

Robbie Lewis gently nudged Laura as he whispered in her ear, "Wake up, love. Come on now, that's it. We made it."

Laura blinked a few times and stared at him blearily. "Where are we?"

"Still on this bloody plane. We've just landed in New Zealand. You took something to help you sleep during the long flight. We hit a lot of turbulence along the way and I think it upset you. You were mumbling all sorts of strange things… like munchkin SOCOs?"

"I had a dream, Robbie. You were there, and James, and Innocent, and Lizzie, and even Moody."

"And you thought that I was the one having a hard time letting go."

"Well, after all, there's no place like home, Robbie."

"Be that as it may, we both deserve a respite from crime and corpses. Come on, love, we're turning the page to a new chapter."

He kissed her gently and Laura followed Robbie off the plane ready to embark on their new adventure.


	2. Innocent has left the building

Jean Innocent, like Elvis, has left the building. She's off shouting at some other hapless cops. But I've had a BALL & I'll miss the gang.

-Rebecca Front's tweet from 8 April 2015; her Twitter profile description includes "wannabe crooner" in addition to actress and writer.

* * *

James: I hear Innocent's leaving do was eventful.

Lizzie: I can still see her doing the ABBA karaoke.

Robbie: I can still hear her. Suffolk Constabulary won't know what hit it.

-One for Sorrow

* * *

"This is not what I expected at all," commented Sergeant Lizzie Maddox cautiously as she surveyed Jean Innocent's farewell party with the same curiosity that she would a crime scene. Lizzie sat down at a table with Robbie Lewis and Laura Hobson in the dark room lit by various neon lamps. Prior to that night, none of the three had had no idea that a) there was a karaoke bar in the basement of one of their favourite pubs; and b) that Jean Innocent was a wannabe crooner- and an ABBA fan at that. She sang Waterloo with relish, but she herself would never surrender- she was being promoted to Chief Constable of Suffolk Constabulary.

"Agreed. I thought she'd have something more posh," said Laura Hobson. "Does it give you any ideas, Robbie? About our eventual leaving do?" Laura asked with a come-hither smile as she swirled her gin and tonic.

"Yeah, ideas what _not_ to do. But I don't want—"

"I know, I know, you don't want a big fuss when we go. But it might be nice…"

 _It's not the 'leaving do' I don't want; I don't want to leave policing period._ Robbie thought, though he didn't have the heart to tell that to Laura yet.

"In any case, Hathaway doesn't know what he's missing," Lizzie said.

"Yeah, he does. I reckon he planned his holidays around missing this event."

"So, which one of these blokes do you think is the mysterious and fabled Mr. Innocent?" Lizzie wondered aloud.

"Judging from the Innocent's red-sequined stiletto heels and the matching jacket that's been left at that table up near the stage, I'd guess that he's that one right there." Robbie said, indicating a gentleman whose face was glowing in the dark- not beaming with pride as his wife belted out Waterloo, but rather literally reflecting light from the screen of his mobile phone from which he did not look up.

"I do wonder where she got those shoes," Lizzie said. "Maybe she fancies herself Dorothy Gale."

"Or perhaps she's the Wicked Witch of the East, before the fall, of course." Laura responded.

"Now, Laura. She's not so bad." Robbie chided her. Robbie was grateful to Innocent for championing him in the last year whereas Laura still somewhat resented Innocent's role in bringing Robbie back to CID.

"Mr. Innocent looks bored, Robbie," said Laura. "I think that we should go introduce ourselves."

"Laura, I really don't want…" began Robbie, but Laura was already pulling him out of his seat and then pushing him ahead of her. Lizzie wondered how someone so petite could exert such force over the likes of Lewis.

"Mr. Innocent? I'm DI Robbie Lewis, and this is Dr. Laura Hobson our forensic pathologist. We've worked with Chief Super Innocent for a long time now and will certainly miss her. Are you looking forward to Suffolk?"

The man looked up from his mobile for a moment and shrugged. "I spend most of my time in London anyway." He answered noncommittally and looked down again.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your name?" Laura asked.

"Forgive me. I'm…." A waitress dropped a tray of glasses, causing a shattering commotion. "…Innocent. Pleased to meet you."

"What was that?" Laura tried again in vain. On the small raised platform that served as a stage, Jean Innocent was making a segue into Dancing Queen.

"Excuse me, I think that this is getting out of hand." Mr. Innocent brushed past them and approached the stage. "Enough, Jean. You're making a spectacle of yourself and me. Get off the stage."

Jean Innocent made a sour face. "No. This is my night. Take it or leave it." Her husband went to sit back down and immersed himself in the glow of his mobile once more.

Laura and Robbie also retreated back to their table. "So?" asked Lizzie.

Laura shook her head. "He's a cold fish, I'm afraid. He doesn't seem very supportive. Robbie, as the senior detective figure here, I really think that you need to say something on all of our behalf."

"No way. Speech-writing is Hathaway's job." But Laura continued to goad Robbie through a few more songs. Innocent finally decided to take a break and handed the microphone over to Gurdip. Before Robbie knew it, Laura and Lizzie had press-ganged him up onto the stage and he was taking the microphone from Gurdip. _Bollocks_ , thought Robbie as he looked at the substantial crowd that had gathered.

Robbie cleared his throat awkwardly. "Good evening. The people of Oxfordshire are safer because of…"

He was cut off by the crowd chanting "Sing! Sing! Sing!"

"What? No. I'm not going to sing." He looked at Laura for moral support and she made an encouraging 'get on with it' gesture. She had even supplied him with an appropriate pun. "I'm here to 'witness' to you how much we all appreciate Jean Innocent's talents and devotion to…"

But the crowd grew restless and Laura mouthed 'sorry, Robbie' before she buried her head in her hands. Fortunately, Robbie was rescued by DI Alan Peterson who had jumped onto stage with him.

"Robbie Lewis, everyone!" Peterson said as he clapped Lewis on the back. "Now, I'd like to dedicate a special song to Jean Innocent and her lovely police station."

Though he was glad to be off the stage, Robbie was extremely annoyed by Peterson on an existential level. Everyone was impressed by Peterson's rendition of 'Jailhouse Rock.' Even Laura was making her doe-eyes at Peterson as she listened. Robbie glared at Laura.

"What?" She said, catching his glare. "You could sing Elvis too, Robbie. That's your age bracket after all."

"Enough, Laura. I think this old man is ready to call it a night before you get me into any more trouble." Robbie said. Laura conceded and they got their coats. They went to say goodbye to Innocent.

"Robbie," Innocent said as he took her hands. "Thank you. It was a pleasure."

"The pleasure was all mine, ma'am."

"You'll have no excuses not to obey your lovely Laura now."

"Doesn't he know it!" Laura declared triumphantly.

"I always knew." Innocent said. "The two you of you belong together…" she trailed off wistful for the love that she had once shared with Mr. Innocent.

"Best of luck, Jean." Laura said.

"And to you, Laura. Good night, and thanks for all the corpses."

* * *

Later on that night, Laura was slathering herself in moisturizing creams before crawling into bed alongside Robbie, who was reading. Or rather, he was pretending to read; Laura recognized all too well the melancholy face that Robbie was making as he pondered his ghosts.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"Just thinking is all."

"Out with it, Robbie."

"Well I can't help but think that Jean Innocent deserves better."

"I don't know, Chief Constable of Suffolk is a pretty plum promotion."

"No, I mean Mr. Innocent, whatever the hell his name is. He certainly doesn't appreciate her."

"I imagine that she's not the gentle lass that she used to be and he's intimidated by the woman she's become." Robbie detected the voice of experience in Laura's assessment. She had weathered a few relationships before Robbie'd come into her life permanently.

"I promise I'd never do anything so foolish to you," he said.

"No, never, Robbie. You'd never do anything as monumentally insensitive as going back to work without even thinking to consult me."

"Come now, Laura. I still rub your back and make your supper like a good pensioner should, though admittedly I do one better than the other." He reached around her and began to gently knead her shoulders.

"Just promise me that you won't go inquiring if they need any consulting inspectors in Suffolk." Laura's intuition detected that Robbie might yet throw her for a loop.

"I wouldn't dare, Laura."

"I know that you were bored in retirement, but it'll be different when we're both retired. I'll keep you busy; that's a promise. We'll spend time with your kids, travel, garden, and best of all, just lay around the house together."

Robbie was silent, though he continued his back rub.

Laura asked, "well, are you going to say something?"

Instead, Robbie wrapped his arms around Laura and began to hum in her ear. At first, he lingered on a single note, then he raised his voice by a fifth, then returned to the first note.

"What are you doing, Robbie?"

"Will you hush up, love? I'm trying to sing you some Elvis." This was the last thing that Laura had expected Robbie to say. Robbie reprised his three tones, this time adding the lyrics.

 _"Take… my… hand…"_ Laura's face burst into a smile that accentuated all the lines of her face. _"Take my whole life too."_

"Oh Robbie," Laura cooed as she turned to face him.

 _"For I can't help falling in love with you."_

"I know that I don't say it enough, Laura, but I do love you."

"I know you do, Robbie."

She reached over him to put out the light then laid her body on top of his. She gave him a passionate kiss in the dark.

"And I love you too."

* * *

Author Note: Sorry, Innocent fans. I tried to write a Jean story, but Robbie and Laura ended up in bed together. Jean Innocent will be back in a later installment. But we have many stepping stones to cross before that chapter. As Robbie and James said in the airport, you have to get there first. My updates will be sporadic as time permits, but each chapter is a stand-alone tale or missing scene. I promise not to leave any of Oxford's finest dangling off a cliff between installments! Well, maybe Peterson. ;)


	3. Moody Solves a Mystery

Moody Solves a Mystery. Or two.

Author Note- I was trying to publish these chapters in chronological order, but this set of missing scenes happen before the Inspector's Ink.

* * *

Part I: The day before Lewis, Hobson, and Maddox attend a corpse in a well in _One for Sorrow_

Joe Moody was settling into his new office, perusing the notes left for him by his predecessor. Jean Innocent's fresh replacement as Chief Superintendent of the Oxfordshire police was keen to invigorate his staff. He read her scrawlings with only slight interest; most of her notes were perfunctory _(DI Lewis- tried and true)_ though two red flags stood out to him.

 _DI James Hathaway possesses one of the most exceptional minds I have encountered in my career. He requires a certain degree of reassurance from time to time, but I assure you that he is worth the effort. I entrust to him and him alone my beloved cactus. Please see that he receives it._

And…

 _Forensic pathologist Laura Hobson is your greatest asset in the case of any suspicious death; be sure to stay on her good side. Demanding detectives sometimes run afoul of Dr. Hobson as she is meticulous in her work and does not like to be rushed. As CS you'll know the delicate balancing act between rapid results and work done right, but my advice is to always trust Hobson to be timely._

Innocent's insight into these matters was appreciated, but it failed to answer in any detail the biggest personnel question in Moody's mind: _Why is DI Robert Lewis still here?_

Moody walked into Hathaway and Maddox's office, where Lewis also had crammed a third desk into the tiny office. Moody was curious. _Isn't he supposed to be consulting with all the detectives, not just Hathaway and Maddox?_ Lewis and Maddox were there working on paperwork, though Lewis was holding the phone away from his ear. Moody overheard a woman squawking something about garlic bread through the receiver.

Moody spoke up. "Give my regards to Mrs. Lewis, but we need you two out here. We're going to do some teambuilding." Moody noticed Lewis' face freeze for a moment. _True, Lewis was from another generation, but surely he mustn't be offended by teambuilding?_ Then Lewis excused himself to his interlocutor and nodded at Maddox before going to the main room.

Maddox said, "Sir, you should know that Mrs. Lewis passed away some time ago." Moody cringed at his error; it wasn't teambuilding that had made Lewis pause after all.

Joining the assembled staff in the main room, he pulled Lewis aside. "Sorry mate, my mistake just now. This is why we need to do the teambuilding exercises- it helps the new boss out more than anyone."

"Sir." Lewis gave a wan smile in acknowledgment.

"It's Joe, please." Moody said congenially, though he could tell that Lewis remained sceptical.

 _So perhaps that's why Innocent kept him on- pity._ Moody wondered if Lewis just wasn't there as a lonely widower in need of a hobby. Maybe someone could talk him into getting an allotment or some other hobby like woodworking…

* * *

About a week later...

After the Talika Desai case had wrapped up, Moody had more time to devote to personnel issues. Moody couldn't make heads or tails of DI Hathaway's written appraisal of Lewis' work. It was clear that Hathaway highly valued Lewis as a colleague but Hathaway's diction was overly pedantic and the document seemed to be more about proving Hathaway to be a cleverclogs than it was about Lewis' work.

He decided to pay a visit to the other red flag from Innocent's memo. Moody sauntered into the mortuary bearing two cups of coffee.

"Chief Superintendent Moody. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Dr. Hobson asked.

"I have a few questions about the Innocent era. I was wondering if you and I could have a chat off the record. I hope that it wasn't too presumptuous of me to pick up coffee. One cream and one sugar, just for good measure."

"Give me five minutes to finish up here. You can wait in my office."

Laura joined Moody about ten minutes later. She had decided to make him wait even though she was curious as to what Moody had to say. She didn't want a Chief Superintendent to think that she was at his beck and call.

"I'm intrigued by some of Innocent's recent personnel decisions." Moody began.

"Jean Innocent did not play in some old boy's club, if that's what you mean. No nepotism there. She even kept her copper son away from Oxford."

"More specifically, do you think that there was real a need for Robert Lewis to come out of retirement?"

Dr. Hobson choked on her coffee. "Sorry, coffee's hot," she mumbled feebly.

Moody began again. "Lewis is popular among the rank and file, so I was hoping for an outside opinion. I'm not sure I can justify his continued consultancy."

Hobson considered her options before answering. This may be her golden opportunity to tell Robbie's boss that he ought to be put out to pasture- the lovely pasture of her own garden, of course.

Moody noticed her hesitation. "You've worked here a long time so surely you have opinions on the matter. I assure you that anything you say is strictly off the record."

"Yes, I've known Lewis since I started here about twenty years ago." Their shared history flashed before her eyes.

"He's a bit of a relic, then, is he?" Moody probed.

Even though Hobson's heart was leading her in another direction, she swallowed her pride and dived in headfirst.

"Lewis can be exasperating at times, but so can all the DIs. Hathaway is too cerebral, too distant. Peterson is too strategic. He's likely to start shaking a witness screaming 'where are the nukes?' But Hathaway and Peterson- they both get results. DI Granger is fairly unremarkable. I've got nothing specific against him, but he isn't going to crack your toughest cases either. Lewis, on the other hand, has seen it all. He'd been in uniform up north, then spent years as a sergeant to one of Oxford's best detectives. And when things get gory here he has the strongest stomach of any DI I've ever known. He is always sensitive in his dealings with the grieving families that come to identify my subjects. He always was too, even before he'd lost his own wife. Lewis has a way of getting people to talk- even the tough suspects. Hathaway is too aloof, Peterson too assertive. Is Lewis a relic? Perhaps, but I see him as a living legacy to your department. Does that answer your question?"

"Yes, I believe it does."

"One more thing, off the record." While Hobson had Moody's ear, she would give him her honest opinion. "Lizzie Maddox is the real rising star of your department. She's Hathaway's bagman, and the two complement each other well. She keeps him grounded. But she also benefits from spending time with an established detective like Lewis."

"Thank you, Dr. Hobson. Laura, if I may." Moody probed. She nodded and noticed that he was eyeing her left hand. Moody found her ring finger naked and pressed on. "I was wondering if perhaps sometime you might like to have dinner."

Hobson smiled broadly. "I'm flattered, Joe, truly I am. I am spoken for, though. I fear he may not understand."

"Of course. Thanks for your time, Laura." Moody excused himself with a slight blush and began to wonder what sort of man had a claim on her- surely an intellectual hunk for Laura Hobson wouldn't settle for anything less.

 _This is precisely why I do not have a picture of Robbie in my office,_ Laura thought cheekily. Committed to Robbie though she was, Laura congratulated herself on still being able to attract some interesting characters.

* * *

Part II: A beautiful spring morning, sometime before Magnum Opus.

Robbie Lewis and Laura Hobson were having breakfast in their garden alongside their grandson Jack. All was right with the world. The night before, Laura had finished the post-mortem report on Oxford's latest defunct citizen and Robbie had left Sergeant Maddox to do the paperwork on their end. Though Laura's report was officially inconclusive, Robbie was certain that the man's death had been an accident. Now, Laura and Robbie had booked a few days off to spend with Jack while his parents were away.

After clearing up the breakfast dishes, Robbie would fetch the canoe from storage. Laura and Jack would meet him at the lake in an hour and they would go fishing. Robbie and Laura agreed to the plan with a kiss. "Eww," said Jack.

 _Oh crumbs, I forgot my mobile in my desk at work._ Laura realised after Robbie had left. Ordinarily, she would be happy to be off the grid for a few days while on holiday, but she just didn't trust that canoe- even if Robbie hadn't built it himself in the end.

 _It wouldn't the first time I'd have to call 999 about Robbie on a boat…_ Taunted by visions of a capsized canoe, she decided to make a quick stop at the mortuary with Jack on the way to the lake.

* * *

Laura dragged Jack by the hand through the corridors of the mortuary keeping a brisk pace so that no one would stop her to chat. Most of her colleagues would find it odd to see her in the company of a child, after all. Stealthy as she was, Laura still had the misfortune to run into Joe Moody when she arrived at her office.

"Doctor Hobson! Just the person I was hoping to see. I just read the post-mortem report on Octavian Vogel. I have a few questions…"

"I went over the PM with Sergeant Maddox last night, so I'm afraid that you'll have to address your questions to Dr. Cook. I am officially on holiday. I'm just here because I forgot my mobile in my desk."

Moody winced. "Oh please, not Dr. Cook."

"I see that your instincts for personnel matters are developing after all," Laura said with a mocking grin.

"Please spare me, Dr. Hobson. There are few things that don't make sense. Are we to believe that a man trips over a basket of yarn and then accidentally impales himself on his wife's knitting needle?"

Hobson was beginning to see Moody's muddled hands-off/hands-on approach that Lewis and Hathaway complained of. "I thought your detectives had this under control."

"Lewis is on holiday for a few days and Hathaway is nowhere to be found. I need to help Maddox put this case to bed."

Hobson sighed. Perhaps placating Moody would earn her and Lewis some peace and quiet. "My report is inconclusive, but it is possible that it was an accidental fall. Lewis and Maddox seemed to be convinced from the family interviews that there was no indication of foul play and no motive."

"No motive? Vogel's heirs stand to inherit a fortune."

"I would trust Lewis to know grief. He would easily spot a fake mourner."

"If I could just view the corpse briefly… then we can release the body to the family." Moody persisted.

At that moment, Jack piped up. "Aunt Laura, can I see a dead body?"

"Absolutely not. That's not regulation." Hobson put her foot down.

"I won't tell." Moody said with a wink to Jack. Hobson couldn't tell who was more eager- Jack or Moody.

She rolled her eyes in resignation. "Promise me that you won't ever mention this to your mum, Jack."

* * *

Jack was swimming in the green scrubs and mask that Laura had put on over his clothes. Laura propped him up on a stool but shielded him from the main attraction, as it were. Moody examined the entry wound and heard from Laura exactly why she was unable to rule homicide or accident.

"I still can't see, Aunt Laura!" Jack exclaimed for the third time.

"Your nephew is quite precocious, Doctor."

"He's not my nephew. It's a bit more complicated than that."

"Aunt Laura is grandad's girlfriend!" Jack said in the helpful manner in which five-year-olds make declarative statements.

"I see. Your grandad is very lucky."

"That's what mummy says too."

Dr. Hobson placed the sheet back over the corpse and slid him back into the freezer. "And speaking of grandad, we are going to be late, Jack. Chief Superintendent, I hope that you got what you were looking for."

"Yes, thank you. Enjoy your holiday." Moody once again conjured up an image of Laura's boyfriend- her brainy and brawny lover was also a family man.

 _Moody still has no idea, after all that…_ Laura thought.

* * *

Part III: A week later, shortly before Magnum Opus

Lewis returned to work after a week with Jack to find Moody still ruminating on the Octavian Vogel case. "Usually it's the detectives who think something isn't right and the Chief who wants the case closed," Lewis complained to Hathaway and Maddox.

"Maddox, find us some crime!" Hathaway bid her, as Lewis had once done to him. Lewis grinned, happy that Hathaway had learned something from him after all. Maddox turned one more time to the white board full of possible suspects at a total loss. What did Moody want them to find?

"I'll go over his bank accounts one more time," said Lewis and went into their enclosed office. He'd left his mobile on the desk in front of the white board. Moody entered and asked Maddox and Hathaway for an update.

"Octavian Vogel is still dead, sir." Hathaway said facetiously. Moody was not amused.

Lewis' mobile on the desk vibrated, cutting the tension. Moody glanced at it and noticed that the display indicated a new message from Dr. Hobson.

"Finally, someone has new information on this case." Moody exclaimed, snatching the phone. "Let's see what Dr. Hobson has to say."

Before Hathaway or Maddox could stop him, Moody had opened the message. His eyes widened and his mouth went agape. "I've been blind to something, haven't I?"

"I've warned Dr. Hobson multiple times to stop sexting at work." Hathaway muttered under his breath to Maddox, though Moody overheard. Maddox stifled her laughter.

"No no, nothing so untoward," Moody said. "Just a... personal message for Lewis."

 _First day back is always the worst. I shall require quite a lengthy backrub tonight. My muscles haven't yet forgiven me for all that canoeing you made me do. XOXO_

"I'll apologise to Lewis for my indiscretion of course." Moody said humbly.

The witty and winsome Adonis with Dr. Hobson that Moody had been imagining was none other than Inspector Lewis. From that day on, Moody accorded Lewis a bit more respect. True, Moody knew it would be unfair to elevate Lewis merely on the merit of being Dr. Hobson's boyfriend. But now Moody was simply more amenable to letting Lewis prove his worth as a detective in the field. And Lewis would have ample chance; even though Octavian Vogel's death had been nothing but a tragic accident, several tattooed corpses were about to turn up in Oxford.

* * *

Author note- Series 9 lacked a humorous Lewis/Hobson reveal, hence this chapter. But nothing, and I mean nothing, could ever be better than the look on Jean Innocent's face in Ramblin' Boy… Also, I will moving this chapter to go before Inspector's Ink the next time I upload a new chapter.


	4. The Inspector's Ink

The Inspector's Ink

Author Notes: I am keeping the T rating, but this story meanders into M territory. Inspector Morse was ever so fond of those Socrative seminars in which he tried to lead Lewis to a foregone conclusion, which always made him seem so arrogant to my mind. There was one episode, however, where Morse got more than he bargained for. I don't even recall which episode it was- so the dialogue is not exact- but it went a little something like this…

 _Morse: Think, Lewis. What do people do when they're naked?_

 _Lewis: I don't know, wash?_

 _Morse: Come on, you're supposed to be the married man._

 _Lewis: Oh, well, you don't need to be naked to do *that,* sir._

It is in the spirit of that exchange that I present to you our next chapter of missing scenes from Magnum Opus; the story will pick up in the mortuary immediately after the following lines:

 _Robbie: A college dean didn't immediately strike me as the most obvious person to have a tattoo like that somewhere like there._

 _Laura: I don't know; I like a man with a tattoo._

* * *

 _Somethings were meant to remain secret between us, Laura._ Robbie Lewis fumed telepathically towards Laura Hobson.

Laura transmitted her own telepathic message to Robbie: _The victim is_ _not the most obvious man to have a tattoo? Now there's the pot calling the kettle black!_

Unfortunately (or fortunately) for both of them, none of these messages were received as the most intuitive person in the room was James Hathaway, and not even he was psychic.

Sensing that he was in the middle of something larger, James sought to change the subject. He asked about the preparations for the epic voyage to New Zealand and Southeast Asia that Laura was planning with her family- and Robbie. She quipped about not knowing what to do without corpses. "But you shall have Robert," James said.

 _Yes, I shall,_ thought Laura. She conjured up an image of Robert Lewis in all his splendor, which included a tattoo that would make James blush. Robbie and James left the mortuary, leaving Laura to her thoughts. She made a mental note to take a little stroll down memory lane with Robbie when this case would be closed.

* * *

*Laura's flashback*

Robbie had roasted her a chicken. In retrospect, it was the best meal he had ever made her. Once the food and a good bottle of wine were tucked away, they retreated to the couch where they got down to the real reason that Laura was there. They had been talking about it for a little while; now that both of their schedules appeared to be clear in the morning, Laura was going to spend the night at Robbie's flat, sharing his bed and all that entailed.

Laura could tell that Robbie was trying to pace himself; the gentleman in him was trying not to rush her, but she knew from the smoldering look in his eyes how badly he wanted to be with her. He pulled his lips off of her neck for a moment to catch his breath. "It's still early, we could watch a film…" he started.

"I'd rather continue this, Robbie. If that's all right with you."

"God yes, me too." His hands meandered underneath the loose fabric of her shirt once more.

This time Laura pulled away. "Bed? We could get comfortable…"

Robbie beamed at her then led the way.

Both of them kicked out of their trousers before perching on the bed. Robbie slowly undid the buttons on Laura's blouse, and then she reciprocated with his plaid shirt. She started to pull his undershirt up around his torso, but he stopped her.

"Leave it on, pet. I… erm, I sweat a lot in the excitement of the moment, and I don't want to stick to you with all the in-and-out."

Laura laughed. _Nerves,_ she thought. "Fine, then I get to keep my socks on."

She could feel his heart racing against her as he wrapped his arms around her to deftly unhook her bra. "Agreed," he said, regaining his confidence. "This, on the other hand, has got to go."

"Tell me more, Robbie, about all the in-and-out?" Laura reclined against the pillows as Robbie removed the last of her undergarments.

He inhaled deeply, on the joyous cusp of what they were about to share. "I think I'd rather show you."

And so he did.

* * *

Before dawn, Robbie woke up curled around Laura, astonished at how rejuvenated he felt after sleeping the night away beside her. "I want you again," he murmured, more of a hopeful request than a statement.

"Then you shall have me." Laura answered and tried to ply her lips to his, but he bounded out of bed and towards the loo.

He had hastily slathered his face in shaving cream and was excitedly wielding his razor when Laura joined him, wrapping her arms around his front.

"What's all this, Robbie?"

"I'm scruffy in the morning and I don't want to mark you."

"I don't care if you mark me; all I want is— what the hell is that, Robbie?"

"What is what?"

"On your shoulder, beneath your undershirt?" Robbie's undershirt was worn thin and threadbare in some parts; it had betrayed an image indelibly stained on his flesh.

Robbie grimaced. "Souvenir of a youthful indiscretion, pet. I'm just glad that it's on me back so that I don't have to see it."

"All right, off with it." Laura commanded as she tugged his shirt up. He complied, pulling it the rest of the way over his head. The tattoo was a bit faded and stretched, but sure enough there was the figure of a nearly-nude woman scantily clad in a red string bikini on Robbie's shoulder. Laura was stunned.

"How old were you?"

"Seventeen. Nearly eighteen. My friend Stuart was leaving to join the air force. A couple of lads and I went out looking to show him a good time; I guess we felt we had something to prove as well."

Laura could see Robbie's face in the mirror though she was examining his back. It was a mixture of shame and fear now that he'd been found out. He was clearly worried about Laura's reaction. _Val must have hated that tattoo_ , Laura surmised. She recalled how Robbie once questioned what kind of parent would let their child cover himself in tattoos when one such young corpse had made its way to her table.

Laura had always been an admirer of the vestiges of boyish Robbie; the lad from Newcastle was still there in his grin and in his eyes. But this glimpse of him- before he was a father who had to set an example, before he was a Detective Inspector who looked so professional in his suits- absolutely thrilled her.

"What do you think, Doc?" Robbie was still awaiting the results of Laura's examination.

"I think that it's exactly the kind of tattoo that an adolescent boy gets." With a sultry tone she added, "Come on lad, let's go back to bed."

*end flashback*

* * *

After the case had ended, Robbie, James, and Laura gathered together for pints on the outdoor terrace of a riverside pub. As James got up to get the next round, Laura sidled up next to Robbie. "You know, Robbie, this set of tattooed victims has me remembering the night that I first discovered yours. Now that you've cracked the case, I find myself desirous of a repeat performance."

Instead of giving her the sly grin that she was expecting, he furrowed his brow. "Crickey, you didn't tell James, did you?"

"That I want to take you to bed? No, but I suspect that he already knows that."

"No, about the tattoo!"

"Don't be daft, Robbie. Of course I didn't."

Robbie sighed. "Well, he keeps taking the piss since your remark that you like a man with a tattoo. The cheeky bugger even went back to the tattoo parlour where we'd interviewed the man who'd inked our victims. He had him make this for me…" Robbie produced a folded piece of paper from his breast pocket.

She unfolded the sheet to discover a design. A skull and cross-bones was superimposed over a red heart; a banner underneath read LAURA in gothic letters. Laura did not know what to say about this absurd, yet thoughtful, gesture. Her eyes squinted as she tried to suppress her laughter.

Robbie saw that she was amused and decided to play along. "Maybe when we get home, you can help me decide on which part of me body it'll look best."

"I look forward to it." She saw James approaching with fresh brew and folded up the drawing. "But for now, you can keep it right here, next to your heart." She placed the paper back in his breast pocket and planted a kiss on his lips.

Even though it was a little awkward to always be the one who was interrupting Robbie and Laura's affectionate moments, James was wholly at ease with the two of them- more than he was with anyone else including his own family. The three of them formed a clever sort of scalene love triangle- three uneven sides that formed something solid together. Two lovers and a true friend, James was never a third wheel- rather he was their biggest support. James set the pints down in front of them.

"What shall we drink to?" Laura asked.

"To alchemy. At least we can turn grain into gold." Robbie said as he lifted his amber pint to the sunset.

"I have a better idea," James said impishly, "to New Zealand."

Robbie planted a kiss on Laura's head then clinked his glass along with James. Laura was radiant in the waning sunlight, yet James noticed Robbie shift uncomfortably. James may have had no idea about Robbie's tattoo, but he read Robbie's body language well enough. James realized that perhaps his work wasn't done here after all. But he would leave Robbie's qualms with New Zealand for another day. Tonight, the three friends just basked in each others' company as the sun sank on Oxford once more.

* * *

Happy Valentines, fanfic friends!


	5. Monkey See, Monkey Do

Hobson: Oh you boys, never let anyone in. What do you suppose that is, learned behavior? Fathers and sons?

Lewis: Monkey See, Monkey Do.

-Robbie and Laura discuss James in _the Dead of Winter_

Author Note: This scene from James' stream of consciousness segues in from the _Inspector's Ink_. It takes place during _What Lies Tangled._

* * *

The very first time James Hathaway met Robbie Lewis, James had been sent by Innocent to chauffeur Lewis from the airport to her office. Instead of taking him straight there, he'd first driven Lewis to the cemetery. He stood at a respectful distance but was close enough to read the tombstone of Valerie Susan Lewis. He noticed that she'd died the same year as his own mum. He said a prayer for both women while Lewis paid his respects, mumbling tender words and leaving her an orchid. James wondered if his dad had ever visited his mum's grave like that.

Robbie led a melancholy centered around his job- not just for the pay check but for his purpose, his sense of self-worth. James found in Robbie so much more than a boss; Robbie was another father to him- the father he wished he'd had. Then came the transformation… it had been years in the making, but happened suddenly none the less. Robbie, who had immersed himself in a cocoon of grief for so many years, emerged, spread his wings, and flew into the arms of Laura Hobson. Well, she did most of the flying, James thought, remembering that Laura's passionate leap at the White Horse pub.

If James had wished from the beginning that Robbie was his father, by analogy that made Laura somewhat like his mother. One traumatic experience in particular brought them together, though they had not remained especially close after. She was writhing in her grave, bound and gagged by her tormentors. Miraculously she was still alive when Robbie and James arrived. Robbie chased her assailants, leaving James to be the hero. Laura was his Lazarus; to this day when he looked her he could still smell the damp earth in her hair as he'd held her close that night. She was the living proof that he was a good copper; he could have administered the last rites instead of telling her that she was safe.

Robbie and Laura as a couple always had a way of making James feel cared for. James imagined a sit-com tableau: Robbie coming home from work to find Laura making his dinner.

"Guess what, Laura," Robbie would say as he loosened his tie, "our James has a girlfriend." He would then relate to Laura a mangled version of the phone message from his sister that Sergeant Maddox had delivered, omitting the part with "stop screening my calls."

Laura, pillar of respectability though she was, did love gossip and was genuinely interested in James' life, so she would press Robbie for the details. He would have none to offer other than "she's a lass named Nell."

James could just imagine Laura's frustration with Robbie's lack of information. "Well, if you won't ask him about Nell I guess I'll have to find a pretext to get him alone myself," she would declare. James smiled to himself, knowing that there had to be a reason that she'd feigned interest in attending that taxidermy art show with him anyway. In the end, he was glad to unburden himself to Laura about Nell and his father, even knowing (especially knowing) that she would in turn go home and tell Robbie.

As much as Robbie had nudged James along with Fiona McKendrick and Liv Nash, there was one occasion on which Robbie was wary of James' female company: Scarlett Mortmaigne. James resented Robbie's intrusion into his affairs and vehemently denied any impropriety. He denigrated Robbie saying that he didn't want to still be sorting through other people's misery twenty years later. James wished that he could take back his words and tell Robbie that he would be proud to have his life turn out like even a shadow of his mentor's. Furthermore, James was now afraid that Robbie was going to turn out more like him- a man who pushed away his loved ones.

James had a unique perspective on Robbie's reticence to retire and travel with Laura. Just as Robbie pulled out of the New Zealand trip at the last moment, James himself had failed to complete his pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. He had been so tantalizingly close to his goal- just one village away from the cathedral- yet something happened. Who knows what kind of religious experience he might have had at his destination.

After Adam Tibbit's suicide James had considered going back into the priesthood to become a hospital chaplain. To help others to cross over into the afterlife with the last rites would surely be better than dealing with the earthly mess that they left behind. That was the impetus for his pilgrimage, to center himself in preparation for his life's new ministry.

So what happened to make James turn around? Something of which he was so ashamed that he would never admit it to Robbie and especially not to Laura. It was a spider- an ordinary spider (well, ordinary by Mediterranean standards, but it was larger and harrier than the British garden variety…) James had stopped to rest and was searching for a Bible passage to meditate on. A spider crawled out from between the pages of his Bible. (Childhood Things that James was supposed to pretend were innocuous but terrified him: spiders and Augustus Mortmaigne.)

James, traumatisied by the spider, dropped his Bible and jumped up from where he was sat. He suddenly felt like his world was spinning out of control and his thoughts returned to policing like it was a drug; he craved the procedures, the feeling of control, and toeing the thin blue line. Policing made him miserable though he realized that he could not give it up. So there he was on the cusp of fulfilling his divine mission, suddenly frightened off course by a spider- or perhaps by the boundless love of Christ.

Why were both James and Robbie so afraid of being happy? Why must they both seek refuge from happiness as policemen investigating all kinds of despair? And who wouldn't want to lie on a beach in New Zealand with Laura Hobson? That is supposed to be every bloke's dream retirement, right? James could only hope to be so lucky one day.

James knew that it was too late for his pilgrimage but it was not too late for Robbie. Robbie would have to act soon though; if he let her get on that plane alone, it would be the end. Laura wouldn't stand for Robbie's betrayal. She was putting up a brave face now just as she had when she was buried alive; when James had asked if he could call anyone for her on that devastating Halloween night, she'd insisted that she would be fine on her own. But then and now, deep down James knew that Laura needed Robbie as much as he needed her.

Finally, all these simmering thoughts of Robbie and Laura came to a boil. While investigating a series of bombings, it was James who exploded when he overheard Laura tell Robbie that she had ordered a taxi to get her to the airport. "Do you love Laura?" He blurted, then tried to reason with Robbie though the older man just glared. James rather wished that Robbie had answered; he hadn't meant it as a rhetorical question. _Why won't you just admit it? Admit to me that you love her!_ James thought; he may as well have addressed that question to his own father about his mother. But just like James' real father whose long-suffering marriage would remain a mystery to him forever, Robbie stayed silent.

James could only pray that Robbie would come to his senses.

* * *

Robbie decided to return to the lab where Andrew Dimmock's corpse had been discovered following an explosion. James offered to come with him, but Robbie snarled at him. "I'm fine on me own."

 _Fine. Be that way, Robbie,_ James thought back. James took out his phone and punched a button on his speed dial. "Can we talk?"

"If you have any further questions about what's left of Andrew Dimmock, you'll have to come by the house, James. I'm leaving with him or without him and I have things to do," the soon-to-be-former pathologist answered.

"See you soon." James hung up.

* * *

"Are you all right?" James asked when he arrived on Laura Hobson's doorstep.

"Better than our bombing victims, which are the only topic of discussion I am willing to entertain with you, James."

James persevered. "I tried to talk to Robbie. I don't want to see you go to New Zealand alone."

"It's fine, James," she protested, but the angry tone in her voice made it clear that the situation was anything but fine. "I've never needed a man in my life and I never will. Robbie can think about that for six months."

"You love him, don't you?" James asked. Laura couldn't answer as she was getting choked up. He moved to put his arms around her, the woman wronged by his father figure. "He doesn't make it easy, does he?"

Laura pulled away from him and dabbed a tear from her face as the echo of her own words to Robbie about his care for Morse reminded her not to give up. "Thank you, James, for reminding me that it's been a long road for Robbie and I. And thank you, for reminding him as well."

"It's the least I can do," James answered.


	6. The Long Goodbye

_Another scene from What Lies Tangled…_

Laura Hobson skulked back to the mortuary from the police station, not wanting to attract any more attention than she already had. She was reeling from a double blow and needed some time to lick her wounds. First she'd learned that Robbie Lewis had been in an explosion- albeit a small one. She knew that he was all right, but she had to keep repeating to herself _two more days, two more days, then we're free._ Knowing that he was even in danger when they were so close to leaving together for New Zealand had hit her hard, so she'd unleashed on him physically, smacking him on the arm.

But it was his second blow that took the fight right out of her. "I'm not going to New Zealand," he'd said. She'd tried to reason with him, but Robbie was resolute, as set in his ways as he had always been. "I'm sorry, love."

"I know you are." Laura, passionate to the point of punching Robbie seconds earlier, now was numb. She had no choice but to let him go. "Go, be brilliant," she whispered before he walked away. She always did have a martyr complex.

Robbie's words cut her all the more deeply because she understood him perfectly. She heard the distant echo of her own voice as a young woman _I'm not going to Germany, Franco._ But now she was much older and wiser; and more in love with Robbie Lewis than she'd ever been with any man ever before.

Once back at her office, Laura had the sudden urge to re-organise the contents of her desk- a stress-relieving strategy that would help her feel like she could regain control of the situation. Work had always been her solace in times of trouble; when she realised that her desk was empty that she nearly lost control of her emotions. _Of course it's empty; I'm leaving for New Zealand. Alone._

She collapsed into her chair and put her head into her hands but she refused to cry. Self-pity gave way to anger; for all that she loved him, Robbie'd treated her as little more than a friend-with-benefits.

As she began to rethink their entire relationship, her mobile started to buzz, bringing her back down to Earth. The screen display told her that it was the last person in the world that she wanted to talk to: Robbie's daughter Lyn. She knew that she should let it go to voicemail- it wouldn't do for her to lash out against Robbie to Lyn- but she also knew that Lyn wouldn't call without a specific reason. Lyn must need something, or something's happened to Monty? or Jack? Laura swallowed back her anger and answered the call.

"Hiya Laura! I hope that I'm not bothering you at work; you must be frightfully busy."

"No, this is fine. Is everything all right?"

"Yes, yes. I just realised that you left a light green blouse hanging up in the closet in the guest room. We'll keep it for you of course, but I thought that you might want to know before you leave."

"Oh, thank you, Lyn. I can't believe that I forgot to check the closet." Robbie and Laura had spent the previous weekend at Lyn's saying goodbye and getting Monty situated at his new home. Jack was thrilled to have a pet for six months and gleefully chased Monty around the house; Monty was much less enthused and hid under the sofa.

Lyn detected the distracted tone in Laura's voice. "Are you all right, Laura?" Lyn asked.

"I'm fine, Lyn, it's just that, well, your dad has decided not to come to New Zealand with me."

"What? Have you fallen out?"

"No, no, nothing like that. He's just afraid that if he goes now, the new Chief Super won't renew his consulting contract. It's the job, Lyn. He's rubbish at retirement."

"Typical dad. Always the job. But fear not, Laura. You know what he's even more rubbish at than retirement? Being alone. Mark my words: leave him to a week of pierce and ping dinners and he will be on the next plane for Auckland."

"I don't know, Lyn. He is very determined."

"Trust me, Laura. He always did this to mum. Didn't matter what she'd planned- vacation or just an evening out with her knitting bee- something always came up at work. He'd always blamed Morse, but by now we all know that it's just him. He's completely unreliable when it comes to other people's plans. I think mum just got used to living with disappointment. Hell, he promised me that he was moving to Manchester about six years ago! Don't get me wrong, though. I'm glad that you've taken him in."

"Come now Lyn, he's not a stray animal. And your dad is the most reliable man I've ever known."

"That's because you knew him at work first. To the rest of us, he's a bit of a tosser. Welcome to the family, Laura. I'm sorry that you had to find out this way. While you're down under, you should look up Ken and the two of you can form a support group."

Laura almost laughed. "Thanks Lyn. I take a strange sort of comfort in that. I don't know how your mum managed all those years, knowing that he was always in harm's way." Laura didn't tell Lyn about the small bomb, but she could read the subtext.

"I think that she prayed a lot. And the important thing to remember is that dad always tries to make up for it in the end. So don't give up on him."

"I won't Lyn. Thank you."

Laura felt a sort of strange kinship with Val now. Robbie had waited years to make sure that he was ready to give himself completely to Laura; Val's memory was never a rival to Laura. No, Laura and Val had a common rival: CID. She thought about visiting Val's grave to commiserate with the dead woman, but she realised that she had a lot of packing and loose ends at work to take care of before her departure. If Customs would allow it, she could bring something back for Val's grave. _I wonder if orchids grow wild in New Zealand..._ Laura and Robbie were of one mind on certain things, anyway. _  
_

* * *

Robbie and Laura may have left their emotions up in the air in that police station corridor, but they both knew that eventually they would have to confront each other at home. Robbie came home late in the evening for a bite to eat and a wee kip before hitting the trail again on the hunt for Adam Capstone's killer. He found Laura in the bedroom carefully rolling her clothes and placing them in the suitcase which lay open on the bed.

She avoided his gaze when he walked into the room. "Laura?" He began. She took a deep breath.

"What? Retirement scares me too, Robbie. Sometimes I think I must be mad, leaving forensic pathology behind. Everything I've worked for… I don't know who I am if I'm not Dr. Hobson."

"Then stay, Laura. Stay with me. We have a good thing here, pet. You and me and occasional corpse- you need Oxford as much as I do."

She shook her head in the negative. "I'm turning the page to a new chapter, Robbie."

He looked in her eyes and was overcome by emotion; these were his words to her when he first told her that he was ready to let go of the memory of his dead wife. Laura was his second chance at happiness. Why did she want to change things now?

"Your suitcase is still here, Robbie, but I won't pack it for you. It's a huge step, I know. But it's a step that we get to take together. Why prolong the inevitable? Retirement, that is. Let's enjoy the rest of our lives together."

Robbie was unexpectedly aroused by Laura's plea. He suddenly wanted her as much as he had wanted to be with her that first time that they were together. He closed her suitcase and moved it to the ground.

"Excuse me? I am working on that." She said indignantly.

"I need you," he murmured from deep in his throat. She understood and softened her demeanour. He sat Laura down on the bed then joined her there, wedging his knees between her legs, pushing her backwards. Laura sat up again and responded by tugging at his belt, tightening it before releasing the buckle.

There was a sick rush of adrenaline that Robbie felt each time that he realised for certain that he was in the company of a murderer. He craved that sensation; in the here and now, Laura made his heart race faster than any cornered suspect ever could. How many times had he found himself trapped with a lunatic wielding a weapon towards him? Yet he was only truly captive now, to Laura's hands manipulating his most sensitive areas, guiding him towards her. Being with her was more breath-taking than all the police chases in the world, and Robbie was an expert at deftly navigating through Oxford's narrow streets at high speed. Even when hot on the trail of a killer, Robbie didn't rush to judgment but was methodical about making sure that all the puzzle pieces were in place; but he found that taking his time in pleasing Laura was far more satisfying than the conclusion of any mystery.

The two lay entwined for some time before Robbie spoke. "That was… exhilarating… pet."

"It always is when you know it's the last time. For a while, anyway." She answered. Her voice was heavy with sadness, yet she was careful to avoid the term 'break-up sex.'

He held her tightly. "I'm not going anywhere, love. I'll be right here waiting for you when you get back. We can do that Skype thing everyday if you want, just like Lizzie and Tony."

Laura cringed. Could Robbie be that blind? "Robbie, Lizzie is miserable and everyone knows it. The distance is ruining their marriage."

"Are you leaving me, Laura?"

"No, Robbie. I'm afraid I've become quite attached to you. Hold me tonight, Robbie, all night."

* * *

Robbie's phone began to chirp in the small hours. "Bugger," he moaned, then "crikey" when he'd read the message. "I've got just enough time for a shower before James comes to get me."

"You're going back to work?" She asked, full well knowing the answer.

"You're still going to New Zealand?" He asked in response. She nodded in the affirmative.

"I love you," he said.

"Stalemate, Robbie. I love you too."

As Robbie hopped into the shower, Laura lingered in bed. Both of them prayed that the other one would come around to his or her own point of view. But Laura, either pragmatically or pessimistically, decided that she'd best arrange a taxi to take her on the next leg of her life's journey.


	7. When Darkness Fell

Author Note- I am sorry for the long delay between chapters. This chapter picks up where The Long Goodbye left off. The original question I set out to answer in this chapter was, "why aren't Laura's niece's parents going to help out when she has a new born baby?" But the question I ended up wrestling with was how exactly Robbie finally reached catharsis to realise that leaving with Laura was indeed the right thing to do. Robbie is so frustrating sometimes! So if you're wondering why A Series of Moments ripped from Series 9 has a Falling Darkness chapter, bear in mind that this chapter has meandered far from its originally intended boundaries. Therefore, the chapter contains flashbacks within a flashback... ugh, What Lies Tangled, indeed!

* * *

Dawn was just beginning to peek into the Lewis-Hobson home. Laura heard the shower turn off, so she got out of bed to start the coffee leaving Robbie to dress alone in their room. He threw on a suit and hastily knotted his tie; when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror he thought to himself that if Laura had been there she would have tied it tighter. Much tighter. He redid the knot. _Perfect. If only solving a murder was as easy as untying a knot…_ he thought.

He hustled downstairs to see Laura throw open the curtains to greet the day. Robbie was struck by her beauty and thought of the very first time that he sat in her kitchen and saw her do that. The sad smile that she gave him was much the same as it was that fall day many years ago.

Robbie had gone to Laura's house after the murders of Ligeia Willard and Rowena Trevanian; the home where Laura Hobson had once dwelled as a student was the common thread. Robbie chatted with her friend Ellen until Laura came downstairs in her yoga pants and loose robe pulled over a tank top. Robbie was taken in by the intimacy of the moment. Was that the word? Yes, intimacy. Here was his very first glimpse at Laura Hobson raw and unpolished. She had thrown open the curtains letting the light shine in and then opened the French doors to freshen the room with the autumnal air. He could tell that she was a little chilly… _Damn it, man, be professional._ He'd scolded himself at the time. That was the problem though, he was all too professional. He'd not trusted Laura as he should have and it had almost cost her life.

But that was a long time ago; today Robbie was not a visitor in Laura's kitchen, he was at home there. He didn't know what more to say to her now that he had told her that would not be going with her to New Zealand. He simply gave her a goodbye kiss on the lips. He took a travel mug of coffee for the road, and they exchanged a last mournful look as he walked out the door. _Back to the Capstone case,_ Robbie told himself.

* * *

Later that afternoon, another bombing victim had brought the Inspectors Lewis and Hathaway back to the mortuary.

 _Well, this is going to be an awkward car ride,_ thought James as he and Robbie prepared to leave.

Dr. Hobson had just apprised them of many things. Firstly, that Andrew Dimmock had been strangled prior to the explosion staged for his murder. Furthermore, Laura not-so-subtly clued James in to Robbie's decision not to go to New Zealand. And finally, Laura informed Robbie that his services would not be required to bring her to the airport.

Robbie was stung by James' acerbic "Do you love Laura?" as they approached the car. _Hypocritical git!_ Robbie Lewis fumed in his head. He was willing to listen to Hathaway's pop-psychology analysis of his life, but he wasn't going to justify it with a verbal response. _How dare you even ask if I love Laura? You, who are so inept at every relationship you have that I had to take you fishing with your own da! You, who exclaims 'we don't do holding hands' like a sulky teenager! Who are you to insinuate that Laura doesn't know how much I love her?_

Robbie slammed the car door; James was behind the wheel. Robbie tried to find fault with James' argument, but hadn't Laura herself once told him "people don't know how you feel unless you tell them?" He replayed James' words about the trip over in his mind.

"You were keen, now you're not…"

 _Shows what you know, you smug sanctimonious prat. I had reservations from the very beginning…_

* * *

 _Flashback to earlier in series 9, sometime prior to Magnum Opus._

Laura came bounding down the stairs into the kitchen clutching her laptop computer. "Guess what," Laura exclaimed, not actually pausing long enough for Robbie to guess. "My niece Alice is expecting!" Laura thrust her laptop screen up in Robbie's face. He tried to focus on the image of a black and white scan. It could have been anything: lima bean, weather radar, flight patterns into a major airport… he trusted Laura's professional opinion that it was indeed a foetus.

"That's good news, pet," he said, waving her computer out of his face. "Is she the one who lives in New Zealand?" Then he added slyly, "you seem pretty excited about being a great aunt for someone who claims that she's not old enough for Jack to call her Gran,"

"Hmm, that's a fair point," she said, giving him a kiss. "But there's more. She's asked us to go to Auckland to help her out when the baby arrives. It coincides perfectly with the end of your consulting contract. I could take a leave of absence if not retire outright…"

"Whoa there, lass. Aren't we getting a little carried away? I didn't realize that you and Alice were that close."

"We are. Alice even lived with me for a time before she started uni. These days I only get the occasional email, but you know how it is with Lyn and Ken."

"But wouldn't Alice rather have her parents stay with her when the baby is born? Too many family members hovering can be hard on a new mum."

"To be honest, Robbie, I don't know if Alice has even told them that she is expecting. They fell out some years ago, and then she moved to New Zealand."

Robbie scratched his ear. He knew that there had been a rift between Laura and her sister Maggie at one point as well. Robbie racked his brain trying to remember if Laura had ever told him exactly what had happened. His mind wandered back to the dark time when he'd sought the contact information for Margaret Thompkins née Hobson.

* * *

 _Robbie's flashback to Falling Darkness: Robbie and Laura are leaving Ligeia Willard's funeral_

"Blow off the cobwebs?" Robbie asked. Laura said nothing but took his arm, a gesture that reassured them both. They were both glad not only that their friendship was still intact, but also that they still had each other to hold on to. Robbie actually was little sad when they arrived at the Trout and he had to let go of her arm. Of course, he would offer to buy the first round. "Gin and Tonic?"

"No, I think I'd rather have something hot."

"Well you're in luck because now that it is November they've added mulled wine the menu."

"Actually, Robbie, I'm off alcohol for a while. Medication to help with the anxiety, you see..." she mumbled.

"Say no more. I could do with a coffee meself." He abohorred the idea of Laura as vulnerable; she had always been an anchor for him. He returned to their table with two dessert coffees, one with whipped cream drizzled with chocolate. Laura didn't know it at the time, but this was how he'd over-indulge his kids when he was feeling guilty about something.

"That was hardly necessary, Robbie," she said, yet eyed the mug hungrily.

"Something told me that on a day like today you need a coffee that will stick to your ribs, pet."

Laura's cheeks tensed a little bit into what was the tiniest hint of a smile. Ordinarily she would not let anyone call her 'pet.' Not even Robbie Lewis. But today, she was glad of it.

They talked awhile about nothing in particular before Robbie had to answer his mobile. Robbie pulled an awkward face as he listened to his interlocutor.

"Is everything all right, Robbie?" Laura asked as Robbie ended the call.

"Fine. James sends his regrets, is all." Typical James: trying to see that his boss spent time alone with the good doctor.

"You're not working him too hard, I hope, wrapping up the case?" From there, Laura segued into a line of inquiry worthy of Lewis himself. Robbie was hesitant to respond at first, but he came to realise that Laura needed to know everything that she could about John and Susan Moreau, about Mary Gwilliam, about Ligeia's death. Understanding was her coping mechanism. When she'd run out of questions, Robbie even found himself telling her even more than he should. The normally circumspect detective began sharing the salacious details of the case's red herrings. Laura perked up considerably at hearing how the so-called psychic Ursula Van Tassel had been shagging Rowena Trevanian's boyfriend. Robbie himself was relieved that at last he could be open with Laura about everything they'd uncovered. It felt good to take her into his confidence. They talked well into the afternoon.

Finally Laura broke off their tête à tête. "I should be going soon. I want to be back to the vicarage before sundown."

"Where?" Robbie asked incredulously.

"Oh, thought you knew." Laura said, with a true grin now. She loved catching Robbie off guard. "I'm staying with my sister who is married to the vicar of St. Whatshisname's over in Bampton. It's all quite miraculous really. My sister and I fell out and hadn't spoken a word to each other in about five years. But when I was in hospital, they gave me something to help me sleep. When I woke up Maggie was there. She gave me a big hug and said 'I came as soon as Inspector Lewis called.' So that's another thing I have to thank you for."

"I had no idea you were estranged." Robbie recalled how he and James had regrouped immediately following the tragedy.

"Where is Laura?" Robbie had asked.

"Hospital." James said tersely.

"You didn't go with her?" Robbie asked, appalled.

"A 'thank you for jumping into her grave' might be in order, sir." James retorted, just as appalled. "Besides, I asked her if there I was anyone I could call, and she said no. She insisted that she would be fine."

Robbie didn't buy that for a second. As soon as he was no longer duty-bound by the unpleasant procedures that one must follow when a suspect dies during a police pursuit, he personally looked up Laura's emergency contact info. Margaret Thompkins was who he found, but he had no idea she was married to a vicar.

"So, how's life at the vicarage, then?" Robbie asked Laura.

"It's busy. There are always people about. It's good because I am not quite ready to be alone yet. And when I wake up in the middle of the night, it's a comfort to know that there are others just down the hall. Anyway, I'll be sick of it soon, I'm sure. I just need to have the window repaired back at the house, then I'll move home."

"Laura," Robbie hesitated. "Bit of an insomniac, meself. If you find that you need someone to talk to, I don't really care what time it is."

Laura reached across the table and took his hand. "Thanks, Robbie. You're a good friend."

Robbie was so grateful to hear her say that, but he couldn't deny the feeling that he wanted to take her in his arms. He wanted more but was full of self-doubt and remorse.

* * *

 _Returning now to the Lewis-Hobson kitchen prior to Magnum Opus_

Robbie's thoughts were miles away as Laura prattled on about her pregnant niece in New Zealand. He realised that Laura never did share the cause for her estrangement from her sister. Laura and Maggie got on well these days at holidays and birthdays, but they were not particularly close. Maggie was as pious as Laura was irreverent. Now he wondered how Laura's niece Alice fit into the puzzle.

"Laura, that period of time that you were estranged from your sister, it wouldn't have anything to do with Alice, would it?"

Laura demurred. "It was a long time ago, Robbie."

"If you're dragging me half-way across the world, I think you'd better at least explain what I'm getting into."

"How do I know you won't agree with my sister?"

"That'd never happen, love. I know what side my bread is buttered on."

"Glad to hear it," Laura agreed reluctantly to share her family secrets. "It's complicated, but I'll try to be succinct. When Alice was 17, she fell pregnant. Maggie and Fletcher didn't take it well."

Robbie raised an eyebrow. "I always thought that Maggie and Fletch seemed fairly open-minded for church-folk."

"Ostensibly, yes, but there are some lines that Maggie won't cross. And especially not when Maggie gets on one of her Crusades- assuming that her way is best and needing to impose her will on others."

Robbie nodded, silently thinking to himself that Laura could be a bit bossy like that sometimes too.

"Maggie's plan was to say that Alice was going to a boarding school. She would be sent away and then give the baby up for adoption. Alice ran away and turned up on my doorstep. I listened to her and helped her think through her options. It was her choice to terminate the pregnancy. I took care of her, Robbie. Alice stayed with me and finished her A levels. Maggie didn't speak to me for years."

Robbie made the connection. "Not until… Ligeia's twins… I'm sorry, pet." Laura's near death experience was still something that Robbie and Laura had a hard time talking about together. Laura got back to the point.

"Exactly. When I was staying with Maggie and Fletcher after Ligeia's murder, they proved to be quite forgiving. They miss their daughter. But Alice may not forgive them for not supporting her when she needed them most. Fletch told me how much they'd regretted how they'd lost touch with Alice. No sense in being angry about what cannot be undone, he'd said. Maggie, for her part, didn't forgive me whole-heartedly until she'd thought I had a proper copper to keep me on the straight and narrow- wanton harlot that she thought I was." She poked playfully at Robbie.

"What? No, I'm sure it wasn't like that, Laura."

"Of course, Robbie. Don't you remember the first time you met her?"

* * *

 _Laura's flashback to the aftermath of Falling Darkness_

Laura had planned to return to the vicarage by sundown. Ligeia Willard's funeral was her first outing alone after she'd been kidnapped and tortured. But a casual drink with Robbie Lewis at the Trout after the proceedings had become an afternoon of healing between friends. The conversation was so easy with him, even though she was in a dark mood- there was none of her trademark flirtatious banter. They were just two people talking honestly with one another, grateful for each other's company. Before she knew it, the sky was turning violet. She cringed, realizing that she would have to drive back to the vicarage in the dark.

"Care for a police escort?" Robbie offered.

"You don't have to, Robbie." Laura said, but Robbie knew that her words were a brave front.

"Nonsense. I shouldn't have kept you out so late. And there's nowhere else I need to be."

So Laura led the way out to the vicarage in Bampton, with Robbie in careful pursuit. As soon as they had pulled into the drive, Reverend Thompkins saw the headlights and came out to greet them.

"Thanks for seeing her home. We were starting to worry." he said. Robbie felt this was a tad overbearing of the vicar, but perhaps that is what Laura needed right now. The man in the dog collar thrust his hand forward to shake Robbie's firmly as he introduced himself simply as Fletcher. "Our Maggie's just finishing up in the kitchen. You'll stay for dinner of course."

"Robbie has to be getting back to Oxford." Laura said at the exact same moment that Robbie said "I'd love to, thanks."

They both laughed uncomfortably. "Sorry, Laura. I'll let you get on with…"

"No, no, Robbie, don't be silly. Maggie's a good cook, and it's late. You should have something to eat."

Laura always knew that Robbie Lewis could be a charmer when he wanted to, but she was surprised at how quickly he ingratiated himself into her family. As heads were bowed to bless the meal, Laura raised her eyes, certain that she would share a smirk with Robbie. But no, Robbie did not even flinch at the prayer and even whispered "Amen" with the rest of them.

After two helpings of stew with dumplings, Robbie was ready to depart. He praised Maggie's meal effusively, prompting her to wrap up some biscuits for Robbie to take home. Laura saw him out to his car.

"All right, Inspector. Who are you and what have you done with the cheeky old sod who likes to tease James for being a God-Botherer?"

"What?" Robbie laughed. "Me mum raised me with good manners, I'll have you know. Besides, I was on me best behaviour for you, pet. Just trying to get back into your good graces."

"You needn't worry about that, Robbie. Just drive home safely."

"Will do. Give us a ring when you're ready to come back to Oxford, will you?"

Laura nodded. She was glad that it was dark so that Robbie couldn't see the tears welling in her eyes.

"Good night, Robbie." He heard her voice falter. After days of inhibition, he let the dark compel him to act on impulse. He wrapped his arms around Laura in an awkward hug and quickly wondered if he had overstepped a boundary. To his surprise though, she clung to him in response. After a few seconds, he broke their embrace.

"You'd best get inside." He nodded towards the house. "Good night, Laura."

She smiled and headed towards the light.

* * *

 _Returning once more to the Lewis-Hobson kitchen prior to Magnum Opus_

And now here was Robbie, holding Laura's hand as she was excitedly planning their future together. Robbie was amazed at how far they had come since the Ligeia Willard affair. When that sinister darkness fell upon them, the dawn had arrived fresh with forgiveness and new beginnings.

"Maggie's always wanted to explore Southeast Asia... maybe if Alice comes around and makes up with her parents…" Laura rambled.

"That's a big if, from what you tell me, pet." Robbie was wary of this arrangement.

"But you'll be there, and you're so good with families, Robbie."

"One of my many charms," he sighed as let the idea of New Zealand sink in. Laura was his, and he was hers. Despite his reservations, he wanted nothing more than to assure her happiness.

"Right then, it's settled. When is this bairn due?"

* * *

 _Flash forward to the Capstone case; Robbie is still in the car with James._

What lies tangled are Robbie's thoughts of Laura: when they'd first planned their trip to New Zealand, and the time he'd almost lost her before he even had her. And now he was about to let her slip away for good. He'd all but told her that he'd rather be blown to bits than spend the rest of his life with her. The truth was that he didn't want to go back to the days where all he had was the job. He loved coming home to Laura; he loved her. But he didn't relish the days where he'd tried to be retired either. He was the consummate professional. And the job needed finishing… How could strike a balance between Laura and the job? Damn his own Gordian knot!

"Are you getting out of the car, or not?" James asked. They had arrived at the station, but Robbie seemed not to notice his surroundings.

Robbie stormed back into their office with James on his heels. "Sorry if I overstepped the mark," James offered, but the look on Robbie's face said that he wasn't having any of James excuses.

Robbie tried to focus on the details of the case. There were many motives for Adam Capstone's murder: infidelity, gambling, research, and intellectual property. Based on his own vices, Robbie decided that work was the most likely culprit; he would return to the lab where Andrew Dimmock's corpse had been blown up in an attempt to frame him. Maybe there he would find the closure he needed on the case. "I'll come with you," James tried again, worried that he had grievously offended his mentor.

"I'm fine on my own," Robbie curtly confirmed James' suspicion.

But by returning to the scene of the crime, Robbie discovered that the key to untangling this knot wasn't work after all, but love. The perfect knot was a symbol of love between Adam Capstone's brother David and a young woman, Paula Guiteau. One brother took revenge on the other for seducing his true love and driving her to suicide.

 _Such a waste, young Paula Guiteau_ ; Robbie thought. He had been through his share of depression when Val died, but he never could understand suicide as an answer when love was lost. He was glad to know that his Laura was made of stronger stuff. There he was on the brink of leaving her and they both knew that she was devastated. But she looked at him and said "go, be brilliant."

Robbie realised that he had just enough time left to diffuse the bomb of his own making. It would be a delicate operation but if he coordinated everything perfectly, he would have just enough time to call James so that they could make up and apprehend one last culprit together, then hustle off to the shops on the High. He had some shopping to do for Laura's niece, after all. And he was going to have to butter her up if he was going to ask her to help him pack…

* * *

Laura may have forgiven Robbie for his lapse in judgment but she was not about do his packing for him. She was, however, quite happy to perch on the bed and give orders as he rolled his plaid shirts into his suitcase.

"You're not going to wear that, are you?" She balked as he took a blue and gold paisley shirt off the hanger.

"Why not? It's me travel shirt."

"Ah, so it is." She took the shirt from him and fingered the material, remembering the first time she'd seen him in that shirt. _The wanderer returns…_

"Besides, I'm off duty. No more dress code for this DI! I thought that was what you wanted."

"True." She kissed him while still clutching the garish shirt behind his back. "I have to admit that you had me scared for a while there, Robbie, but I should have known that you would wander back to me eventually."

"The Capstone case was just a distraction. My wandering days are over now, pet. I'm back home with you where I belong."

"That's where you're wrong, Robbie. Now we get to wander together."


	8. Go, Be Brilliant

Go, be brilliant: sometimes you have to go far away to learn how you brightly you shine

* * *

The New Zealand trip got off to a rocky start. The last thing that anyone wants to do after a 24 hour flight is find a SNAFU at the rental car agency, but that is the mess that Robbie and Laura were in, dragging their luggage behind them. Once the car situation was finally sorted, they quibbled about who would drive first. Laura, having slept most of the flight despite a strange psychotropic dream, was probably the better rested, yet Robbie insisted on being at the helm. She snorted, "at least they drive on the left here" as he got behind the wheel. (There had been an incident whilst driving in Italy, but the less said about that the better…)

Sitting in the passenger's seat, Laura powered on her mobile. A message indicator chirped. "Damn! I missed it!" she cried.

"What?"

"The baby is already here- two weeks early! No name yet, but mother and baby are well. Oh Robbie, I so wanted to be there…"

"I think it's for the best, Laura. The only thing worse than giving birth is having to watch someone give birth and not really be able to do anything about it. The third worst thing is sitting in a damned waiting room…"

"But the miracle of-"

"Rubbish. Trust me, Laura."

"Well, I'm a doct-"

"And I have experience. In any case, the bairn arrived safely, so that's all we'll say about that."

Laura still felt that Robbie was wrong in his assessment of the miracle of life, but she knew that this was one of those times that he was going to be his obstinate self. They both sulked on their own sides of the car, but as they began to put some distance between themselves and the airport, the beauty of the North Island soothed their nerves. Once they were a bit north of Auckland, the scenery was breathtaking and they knew the trip would be well worth it. Robbie's hand drifted to Laura's knee when it wasn't on the gear shift. She laid her hand on his.

Soon they had met with the rental agent for their little bungalow, and once they had the keys, they made a call to Alice's partner Wendell. They decided it would be best for Laura and Robbie to get settled into their bungalow while Alice and the baby were still being well cared for in hospital.

They were absolutely knackered by the time they climbed into the creaky wooden bed with an ornately sculpted headboard. Robbie shifted his weight in the bed, which creaked again in response. He said, "I think that I should handle the cooking and the housework for a while. You should help Alice with her baby."

"You cooking, God help us," she joked, but Robbie just seemed to sigh in agreement.

"What is it, Robbie?"

"Babies." He said tersely.

Of course, Laura should have known Robbie's last minute hesitation about their trip wasn't entirely work related. "I didn't realize how hard this was going to be for you. We'll get through it and help Alice the best we can." She laid her head on his chest.

"You can count on me, pet," he mumbled like a reluctant soldier. He planted a kiss in her hair.

"Thank you for coming this far with me, Robbie. It means a lot to me." She lifted her head to give him a deep and ardent kiss.

Robbie reached for Laura, ran his hand all the way down her midsection between her legs. He breathed a sigh of relief not to feel the puffy C-section scar that Val had worn there. Laura was his life now. Robbie finally relaxed as Laura moaned at his touch. The past would always be there, but it was lighting his way along a new path now.

"We really ought to test out this bed, Robbie, to make sure it can support us."

"I can't think of a better way to start our New Zealand adventure."

* * *

After proving that the bed could indeed support amorous activity, Robbie and Laura slept soundly. They slept later than they'd intended but arose energetically the next morning. They showered, had a quick breakfast, and hustled off to Alice and Wendell's home to meet the newest addition to the extended Hobson clan.

"Aunt Laura!" exclaimed a bedraggled Alice, collapsed in an easy chair with the baby on her chest. "I am so glad to see you." Her voice wavered with emotion.

"How are you, sweetheart?"

"Glad to be out of hospital, but everything hurts. I didn't think recovery would be this bad. And look at my legs." Alice's legs and feet were grotesquely swollen.

Robbie didn't miss a beat. "That's not so bad, pet. Of course, Laura and I have seen our share of bloated corpses."

"Robbie!" Laura throttled Robbie.

"Ugh, it hurts to laugh!" Alice winced. "But I like your chum, Aunt Laura."

"Ah yes, I'm sorry I didn't formally introduce you. This is my partner, Robbie Lewis. And that," she said referring back to Alice's bloated-corpse legs, "looks like oedema. You ought to put your feet up, and when Robbie and I go to the store, we'll stop by the pharmacy to pick you up some support hose to redistribute the fluid in your legs."

"It's good to have a doctor in the family, and welcome, Robbie."

"Thank you, Alice." Robbie contemplated Alice for a few moments; she had light brown hair that fell into loose curls. She bore an uncanny resemblance to the Laura that Robbie had first met so many years ago looking for Inspector Mouse. It was a bit unsettling for him at first: thinking of Laura as a young mum, knowing that that was a life she had not experienced, knowing that this was the life that he had led with someone else. Babies would always remind him of Val, and yet here before him was a younger version of Laura.

The baby unlatched and Alice interrupted Robbie's contemplation. "I think that somebody is ready for a nappy change. Could you help me up?"

"You rest; let me do it!" _Laura is certainly enthusiastic about nappies,_ Robbie remarked silently. She scooped up the baby but was surprised at his lack of neck control. Robbie was there to steady her hands.

"Careful, lass. They only come out half-baked, you know."

"Like your cannelloni, Robbie? If you don't burn it, that is." They shared a teasing look. Robbie was grateful for trading barbs with Laura; she saved him from his brooding and brought him back to the present.

As Laura began to change the baby on the makeshift nappy station on the coffee table, Robbie asked Alice, "so, does this bairn have a name yet?"

Alice responded, "we've been debating for some time now, but I think that we have finally decided on James."

At that moment, James released a fountain of pee on Laura. Laura took it with good humour. She said, "newborn babies aren't particularly emotive, I know, but this little boy looks very smug for what he's done."

"Maybe it's just the shape of his face, pet." Robbie said. Laura and Robbie exchanged a knowing glance, then began to chuckle.

"What? Am I missing something?" Alice asked.

"It's just that Robbie and I agree that James is the perfect name for him," Laura explained.

* * *

By the next day, poor Alice had discovered that none of her undergarments fit as they ought to. Nothing was comfortable. She needed to try on some new options, so after James' mid-morning feed, Wendell took Alice shopping. She was reluctant to leave baby James, but Wendell seemed to be itching for some freedom, and Laura and Robbie had assured Alice that James would be in excellent hands.

They expected James to nap in his bassinet, but not five minutes after Alice and Wendell had left, he started to bawl that pathetic newborn mewl.

Laura went to pick him up and tried rocking him gently with an out of tune lullaby. Then, she changed his nappy. But it was of no use. "You can't possibly be hungry; you just ate! What is it, James? Gas?" But James made no other response than "waaaah."

Eventually, Robbie came out of the kitchen to find a rare sight: Laura Hobson with a helpless look on her face.

"I don't know what to do, Robbie!"

Robbie shook his head, and then spread out a blanket , folding one corner. "Give him here, love." Robbie took the baby and laid him on the blanket, tucking his arms down. Once James was thoroughly swaddled, Robbie began to swish him vigorously in the crook of his arm.

"Robbie, that's too fast!" She moved towards Robbie who turned his arms away from her.

"Nah, it's just like rugby, pet."

Laura was skeptical, but James' incessant wail ebbed into hiccups, and then he fell asleep. Robbie placed his rugby ball baby back in his bassinet. "There, now. You're much easier than our Lyn was," Robbie said with a sense of accomplishment. "Laura, I think I know what we should get this lad as a proper gift."

"Oh, so you do realise that your dodo onesie was woefully insufficient?" Laura asked with a smirk.

"Come now, pet. I am trying to make it up to you."

"So you are, and you're succeeding," she conceded with a smile.

"James needs a mechanized baby swing, Laura."

"That is a brilliant idea, Robbie."

* * *

-The next day-

"Bollocks!" Robbie cursed as he was trying to assemble the swing that he and Laura had purchased. He couldn't get the metal rods to fit together as it showed in the diagram.

"Language, Robbie!" Laura admonished him from behind the screen of her laptop.

"The bairn doesn't understand, Laura," he said, nodding to the bassinet.

"Mmm, Robbie, Lizzie emailed you."

"You're checking my email?"

"Someone has to. She says that James' dad is doing poorly. You really ought to write to him."

"I don't know what to say, Laura."

"Come here, we'll work on it together."

Robbie sat next to Laura at the table and she nudged the computer towards him. He typed "Dear James," and then stared at the screen for a while. He pecked at a few keys, but deleted the words soon after they appeared on the screen. Laura began to get frustrated with Robbie's inertia so she stood up behind him and passed her arms around his shoulders, reaching for the keyboard.

She typed, "Lizzie wrote to give us an update on your dad. Stay strong, and please know that you and Nell are in our thoughts. Best, Robbie."

Despite the signature, it was Laura all over: caring, yet straight to the point. "I can't say that, Laura. I'm not a bloody Hallmark card."

"Well, you've got to say something!" Laura shook her head. "Robbie, do you ever have the feeling that functionally, you and I are James' parents?" Baby James began to squawk, so Laura picked him up from his bassinet.

He looked up at Laura as she was bouncing the baby. "Just to check here, we're talking about Hathaway, right?"

"Of course we're talking about Hathaway! As much as I love this little bundle, I love going back to our bungalow at night to sleep in peace- poor Alice and Wendell! And as for Hathaway, both his parents are more or less gone now. He needs us."

"You're right, love. We're all he has." He hit 'send' on the email despite his reservations about the formal tone. "Go on, you'd best wake up Alice from her nap because I think someone needs a wee nip."

Robbie continued to peruse his messages- mostly snaps that Lyn had sent of Jack and Monty. Although it had only been ten minutes an email came back across the ocean as Hathaway responded to Robbie's message. The note read, "Thanks, Laura. I'm glad that someone is checking the old man's email."

"Bollocks," Robbie said again as he read James' message.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Laura had gone out to the shops and Robbie had resumed his attempt to assemble the swing. Alice was cuddling James, who would periodically startle and throw his little newborn arms up. "He is a fussy little lad today!" his mama exclaimed.

"You've got to master a tight swaddle, lass" said Robbie as he tightened the final bolt and plugged in the swing. "What do you think, James, ready for a test drive?"

James gurgled and made a whimpering sound as Robbie strapped him into the swing. But as the motion started, he calmed down and seemed to be at peace.

"Oh Uncle Robbie, you're brilliant!" Alice placed her arms around him in a grateful hug. He was surprised again by Alice's likeness to her aunt in younger days.

"Thanks, Alice." Robbie said.

"Why do you look a little sad, Uncle Robbie?"

"I'm afraid I wasn't very much use to our Lyn- that's me daughter- when me own grandson arrived. Her mother-in-law helped out at the beginning, and I came to visit, but…"

"I'm sure she knows how much you love Jack- he's all you and Laura talk about!"

"She does, but I was an old fool in the beginning. I couldn't look at Lyn without remembering her mum, and it just hurt too much. My grief cost me the joy of becoming a grand-dad. Coming here has made me realise how much I missed."

Alice patted him on the shoulder.

"You know, Alice. I've met your parents. I think they've come to regret how they handled certain situations too."

Alice turned away, suddenly embarrassed. She had hoped that Robbie didn't know of how she'd been shunned by her family after having an abortion at age 17.

"I apologise if it's not my place, Alice. But maybe you could give them a call. They will always love you, and I know that they would like to be a part of your life. If you asked them, they'd be on the first plane to come meet your bairn."

Alice nodded. "I'll think about it." She started to cry.

Robbie wasn't sure what to do next so he simply said, "I'll make some tea." He was grateful that Laura came home a few minutes later.

Laura bustled in, excited by her purchases. "Robbie, while I was out I picked up a post-card for Jack, but I couldn't decide between these two, so I bought both. Which do you think?"

"Definitely the tropical bird one." He said, snatching the other post card from Laura. "But there's someone else whom I need to write to as well." Robbie went to the kitchen to pour the tea.

Emboldened by his emotional breakthrough with Alice, Robbie pulled a pen from his pocket and scrawled in his own handwriting…

 _Dear James,_

 _This is called a post card. I'll be expecting one the next time you take a long walk somewhere. All is well here. They named the baby James. Laura and I agree that you are slightly lower-maintenance, mostly on account of the nappies. Give our best to Lizzie._

* * *

A few weeks later, a post card of an alligator surging from the Cherwell arrived at the little bungalow in New Zealand.

 _Dear Robbie,_

 _I stole this from the evidence locker on a case we solved long ago because I don't do postcards. Am glad to know that my namesake is keeping you busy. Kiss Laura for me. James._

Robbie smiled, happy that he was still keeping James on his toes from a distance. He rather liked the role of patriarch he had taken on in New Zealand. Laura looked to him for wisdom in all things baby; Alice was reconciling with her family; and he had realised how much his own kids, grandson, and erstwhile sergeant meant to him. James didn't need him to be a detective, James just needed Robbie in his life. Maybe retirement wouldn't be so bad after all.

When Laura had said, 'go, be brilliant,' she didn't realise how true those words would be.


	9. The Two Gentlemen of Oxford

The Two Gentlemen of Oxford

Setting: One year has passed since Robbie and Laura returned from New Zealand. Much to Dr. Hobson's chagrin they both resumed their work, though mostly in a paper-work capacity. (Dr Hobson had six month's worth of damage control to do at the lab before a suitable successor could be named; and Chief Superintendent Moody, after a pointed conversation with Dr. Hobson, wasn't about to put Lewis back on the streets.) But ultimately, the time came to retire for good. Lewis and Hobson received a parting gift from Hathaway: four tickets to an outdoor Shakespeare festival outside of Suffolk, where this story begins. A champagne picnic basket dinner following the performance is included in the price of admission…

* * *

"Is this one of those partner swapping plays? This one fancies that one and that one fancies this one but then they get confused?" Lewis asked as the four friends found their seats.

"No." Hobson snapped. "For the last time, Robbie, it's The Tempest."

"Oh good, because I can never follow those." Lewis said. Hobson and Hathaway exchanged an exasperated look as they both knew that Lewis was far keener than he let on.

"The Tempest…" James started but then paused to seem extra pedantic for the express purpose of annoying Lewis, "…is one of Shakespeare's later plays and is often considered his farewell to the theatre. A popular modern interpretation is to tell the Tempest as a tale of post colonialism, but tonight's approach seems to be a teeny-bopper beach party version.

"Smashing," Lewis said.

The four friends were content to sit through the tempestuous tale of Prospero-the-rightful-duke-of-Milan's revenge on his usurper brother from the confines of the magical island where he is exiled. But when Prospero betroths his daughter Miranda to Ferdinand and asks the sprites to provide some entertainment, the sprites began plucking couples from the audience to dance! Lewis and Hathaway squirmed nervously, and Lewis was just praying that Hobson didn't get any ideas. Fortunately, fate intervened.

A sprite had sighted a middle-aged woman canoodling with her much younger Latino boyfriend. The sprite snagged the dark haired woman and her companion from their seats; unlike most of the couples dragged into participation, these two danced sensuously without inhibitions.

"Look at them, is that…?" Lewis was too stunned to finish his thought.

"It can't be!" Hathaway gasped.

"It is!" Hobson chirped.

"Am I missing something?" exclaimed Hathaway's companion.

"It's Jean Innocent, our old boss!" Hathaway explained.

"And that bloke she's dancing with is most certainly not Mr. Innocent." Lewis chuckled.

"Good for her!" Hobson said approvingly. "See Robbie? You were afraid this play would be boring…"

"Just don't go getting any ideas about trading me in for a younger model, pet."

Hobson giggled. "Never." At this point, they were shushed by the people sitting behind them and decorum dictated that they keep their thoughts to themselves.

Following the play's conclusion, the theatre-goers spread out around the park where the festival was held in order to enjoy the natural beauty of the area. Hobson spread out a blanket to claim their territory upon a hill. Lewis went to fetch their champagne and picnic basket dinner from the concessions stand while Hathaway darted off to find the gents.'

Finding himself in a gargantuan double line headed for two trailers of porta-loos, Hathaway scolded himself for having had too much coffee on the drive to Suffolk.

Suddenly, Hathaway thought he saw the familiar back of Innocent's head in the queue for the ladies. He turned quickly away and lit a cigarette, praying that she wouldn't turn towards him. He didn't want to have an awkward conversation with her while queuing up for the loo.

"Inspector Hathaway?!" He heard her voice clear as a bell, though her tone was hushed and discreet. _I turned away too late,_ he thought. He pulled a face (one that Innocent might call smug) and turned to face her.

"Ma'am," he greeted her with a smile.

"What brings you to Suffolk?"

"Retirement present for Robbie and Laura. You should come say hello after…" he nodded towards the loo.

"But Suffolk? That's a long way from Oxford."

He took a drag from his cigarette, and then exhaled. "That would be my girlfriend. She has a friend- a friend of her brother's, really- playing the role of Prospero, and she somewhat insisted we come."

Innocent's eyes lit up. "Girlfriend! Oh, James! So you're here on a couples' weekend with Robbie and Laura…"

Hathaway could tell by her unusually sugary tone how much Innocent was enjoying teasing him. He decided that there wouldn't be any harm in being a little cheeky- she wasn't his boss anymore after all. "And you, ma'am? We noticed your dance partner..."

"Ah. Yes, that would be Fernando."

"Fernando, like the ABBA song?"

"Only he's Peruvian. Don't ask, James."

"I won't. Thanks… for the cactus."

"Still alive, is it?"

"Prickly as ever, ma'am."

"You didn't come to my leaving do."

"No, I had a family obligation."

Jean Innocent raised her eyebrows suspiciously. "James Hathaway, you never had a family obligation once in all the years I'd supervised you."

Hathaway puffed in and out on his cigarette again. He loathed being interviewed by Innocent so he decided to get it over with and be brutally honest. "My estranged sister and I were in the process of moving our father to a care home for dementia patients."

Innocent winced with remorse. "I'm sorry, James; that must have been a very difficult time."

He nodded. "Dad passed away about a year and a half ago now. He's in a better place now, and frankly, so am I."

"Glad to hear it, then" Innocent answered. "James, I think that I have learned more about you in these few minutes than I did in eight years."

Hathaway's queue was moving more quickly than Innocent's, so as their queues shifted they parted company but agreed to meet again on the hill with their picnic baskets. Hathaway let his thoughts drift back to another time as the queue steadily advanced towards the gents'. Yes, he was certainly in a better place now…

* * *

 _The Hathaway flashback: a year and a half ago._

Sergeant Maddox held the door to the funeral home for her governor. "I think I'll have a cigarette first," Inspector Hathaway said.

"Oh come on, James!" His sister Nell cried with exasperation. "We've just lost dad; must you try to put yourself in an early grave as well?"

Maddox sighed. "Come in, sir, let's just make sure everything is in order first. Then you can pop out for a smoke." She was acting under orders from Inspector Lewis, off in New Zealand, but this was a personal mission. Lewis had asked her to keep an eye on James and keep the peace between the Hathaway siblings.

Maddox gave Hathaway her arm as they walked in after Nell. A woman with tidy brown hair pulled into a braid was sitting on a settee in the vestibule of the funeral home. She and Hathaway locked their gaze, and then the woman stood up.

"I'm…" she started but hesitated when she saw Maddox on Hathaway's arm.

"Liv Nash." Hathaway finished for her, though at the same time Ms. Nash said, "…just here delivering a floral arrangement."

"Lizzie, Nell, can I have a minute?" Hathaway asked, and the two women filed into the next room. He could see Nell mouth, 'who's that,' to Maddox and Maddox's shrug in response. Hathaway sat down on the settee and motioned for Liv Nash to sit back down next to him.

"That's my sister and Sergeant Maddox from work. I made Inspector a few years ago; Maddox is my bagman. So, erm, she's here because she has to be."

"Still, she seems like she like she cares."

"Yeah, she's very good. In truth, Lizzie's become a friend too. And she's married. I suppose I just wanted to make it clear that she's not my girlfriend."

Liv Nash gave a tentative shy smile in response.

"And what's your excuse for being here?" He asked.

She blushed a little as she answered. "A florist friend of mine owns a boutique. I help her out when things get really busy. Right now she's swamped with weddings. Anyway, an order came in from a Lewis, ordering a condolence bouquet for a Hathaway funeral. I thought to myself, 'Lewis and Hathaway, that can't be a coincidence.' So I looked up your father's obituary online. I'm very sorry for your loss."

"Thank you. So Robbie sent flowers?"

"They're in there. Some really nice lilies."

"Must be from Laura." Hathaway said.

"I hope that I'm not intruding. I remember how you were very kind to me after I found Murray Hawes in the forest. I just thought that maybe I could repay you that kindness. Was that foolish of me?"

"Not at all. I'm glad you did. I'd like to… Can I…" He began to tumble over his words. "Can I… introduce you to my sister and sergeant?"

"I'd like that," Liv Nash said. And the two were inseparable henceforth.

* * *

 _Returning to the post-Tempest picnic_

Hathaway, having relieved himself at last, made his way back to the hill to find Lewis, Hobson, and his beloved Liv seated on a blanket delving into a picnic basket. This whole weekend had been Liv's idea- ostensibly wanting to support her brother's friend Johnny the actor- but really he was grateful to her for making sure that he would keep Lewis and Hobson in his life after the older couple retired. Left to their own devices, he and Lewis had the tendency to drift apart as fathers and sons do. But Liv had recognised soon after Lewis and Hobson's return from New Zealand that her James took himself a little less seriously after he'd had a pint with Lewis. She enjoyed talking about gardening with Laura Hobson as well, so that further encouraged Hathaway to keep in touch with his erstwhile mentor.

Hathaway told them of his brief encounter with Innocent. "You're an awkward sod in the best of times, but meeting your former boss while waiting for the loo? That's rough for even you, lad." Lewis remarked.

"Incoming!" Hobson said as she saw Innocent on the horizon. Lewis and Hathaway stood to greet Innocent as she approached the group. Fernando trailed her at a discreet distance carrying their own picnic basket. "The two Gentlemen of Oxford!" She declared grandly.

"Wrong play," Hathaway quipped.

"I'm still a dyed-in-the-wool Northerner, ma'am." Lewis confirmed.

"And this one doesn't count," Hobson said, indicating Hathaway. "I think that Oxford revokes your birth certificate if you study at Cambridge."

Introductions were made for Liv and Fernando's benefit and they spent a few minutes getting caught up.

"So Robbie, what finally made you decide to retire for good? I thought that policing was you DNA," Innocent asked. Lewis merely smiled. He didn't know where to begin…

* * *

 _The Lewis-Hobson flashback: three months ago_

"Let's have another go around the neighbourhood, Robbie." Hobson tugged on Lewis's arm as they were approaching their home on their evening walk.

"But we've already been walking an hour! Haven't you got your steps in yet, pet?" Lewis didn't see much point in Hobson's pedometer, but he knew how much she did like her data.

"I'm trying to wear you out, Robbie. You haven't been sleeping well and you won't tell me what's wrong, so I have to march it out of you."

"If you're trying to wear me out, there are better ways, love."

"Mmm, we could do that too, if you think it would help, but my professional opinion is that you are trying to change the subject."

"Maybe I am." Lewis conceded, and the two continued to walk along in silence. Hobson had a demanding stride, her little legs out-pacing his longer ones.

Later that evening Hobson tried again. In her tank top and pyjama bottoms, she approached Robbie on the couch. "I brewed some chamomile tea," she offered him a cup.

"Aw, Laura, not herbal…" he began to protest but took the cup anyway.

"It's to help you sleep, Robbie. Of course, we could talk for a while if that would help too."

"I think I'd rather take you to bed and prove to you that everything is fine."

"Sex shouldn't be about having to prove anything."

"It is if you're a sixty-some year old male. Come on, pet, help me to shave a few years off."

"Do you plan to drink from the fountain of youth?"

"If that's what we're calling it."

"After your cuppa, Robbie," she smirked.

* * *

Though tea and love-making did help both of them drift off to sleep soundly, Hobson was awakened by a distressed Lewis several hours later. He was moaning something as he tightened his hold on her.

"Robbie? Robbie? You need to wake up. You're having a nightmare."

He sat up after a few moments to re-orient himself and mumbled, "sorry, pet."

"It's all right, just a dream, Robbie." She stroked his cheek which was clammy with sweat. "Tell me what's going on, lad." She only called him 'lad' when he needed to hear it. "Is it Val? It's OK if it is. I just want to understand."

"I just need to get a glass of water, Laura."

She let him go but after a few minutes followed him down to the kitchen. "This is the third night in a row. Is it the same dream, or different ones?"

"Same."

"I'm listening..." she said.

"Shipwreck, Laura."

"That was not what I was expecting you to say, but I suppose it explains why you were clinging to me like a life preserver."

"Lots of people, they only saw me as Morse's sidekick. Thought I couldn't hack it as an inspector on me own. Except Val, of course, but then she was gone and I had no one left to believe in me. And so they sent me away, to the BVI. All alone. Do you know the real reason for my secondment?"

Hobson shook her head no; she had heard rumours of his drinking, but she was never able to believe them. Not steady, sober Robbie Lewis.

"Complaints from the Met. Some Geordie cop thinks that just 'cause he's made Inspector in Oxford that he can meddle in their investigation of a simple hit and run when they've got bigger fish to fry. But she was me wife and I couldn't let it go. So it's heave ho across the ocean with old Lewis."

Hobson rubbed his shoulders, slightly relieved to know that there had been little truth to the idea of alcohol affecting his work. She was sympathetic to his obsessive nature when he was on a case.

"So in the dream, there I am, on one of those ships what like me dad used to build in Tyneside, adrift in the middle of the ocean bound for the BVI. There's a storm and it rips the boat apart. Somehow, I wash up on Tortola. Only there were no people, just wilderness. And I can't get over the idea that back in Oxford, someone else is doing my job."

"That sounds maddening."

"Aye."

"For the record, Robbie, I knew Morse well enough to know that you were never just his sidekick. You were so much more to him- as a detective and as a man. Strange may have let him prance around like a proud peacock on parade, but he couldn't make do without you. You, on the other hand, you've done all right for yourself. James deserves a little credit, I suppose, though."

"And don't forget me pathologist. She's the best." Lewis kissed her hair.

"The next time you have that dream and you're stranded on the island, just look up. I'll be hiding in a tree, waiting for you to rescue me."

"But I'm the one who needs rescuing, pet."

"Exactly," Hobson said. "We can rescue each other."

"Ta."

Lewis slept better henceforth, having unburdened himself to Hobson. It was as simple as that; the nightmares disappeared with her loving magic. He felt foolish because he should have told her sooner- and he should have told her the whole story. Above all, he should have realised that Hobson would know that a few pieces were still missing.

* * *

The next day, Hathaway returned home to his flat and was very surprised to find Hobson cleaning up his kitchen. He vaguely recalled giving Lewis a spare key ages ago…

"I hope you don't mind, James. I just wanted to keep busy while I waited. Does Liv let you live like this?"

"She's my girlfriend, not my housekeeper."

"Fair point." Hobson smiled.

"You could have called." He answered.

"I didn't want _him_ to know." Hobson foisted a cup of tea on Hathaway and motioned that they sit on the couch.

Hathaway nodded. "So…" He tried to give Hobson and opening, but she hesitated. She didn't like to admit that Hathaway might know more than she did about the man she loved.

"So… Has Robbie said anything to you? About anything?" Despite her vagueness, Hathaway knew exactly what Hobson meant.

"No. But he doesn't have to. He forgets to clear his search history on the computer at work."

(Hobson cringed, knowing that Lewis occasionally enjoyed 'online shopping' for lingerie on the Guilty Secrets website. Fortunately, Hathaway didn't notice.)

"It's Simon Monkford," Hathaway said. "He may be paroled from prison soon; the manslaughter was an accident, he's exhibited good behaviour, and he doesn't pose a 'risk to society.'"

"Even with his prior criminal record?"

"Petty crimes. I think he has a good shot."

"I see." The two sat drinking their tea in silence.

"Thank you for telling me, James." She got up to leave. "Keep an eye out?"

"Always," Hathaway said.

* * *

 _About a month later_

"Sergeant Maddox, I need to borrow your governor for an inquiry." Lewis said. "If Moody comes round, cover for Hathaway. As for me, you have no idea where I am."

"No idea where who is, sir?" She winked at him.

"Good lass."

"And what kind of inquiry is this, Robbie?" Hathaway asked once they were out of the station, assuming they were on their way to a pub.

"The kind where I need you to make sure I don't do anything stupid." Lewis replied. The two said nothing as Lewis zapped the car and got in the driver's seat. Hathaway shook his head and climbed in on the passenger side.

When the car came to its destination, the two detectives were sitting outside the prison from which Simon Monkford was to be released.

"One last stakeout, James, for old times' sake." Lewis said.

Hathaway swallowed his misgivings and said, "I'd have brought coffee if I'd known."

"I should have pressed for murder charges. Manslaughter was too good for him."

"We only nick 'em, Robbie. You told me that a long time ago."

Monkford emerged with a bag of personal effects. A woman got out of her car and began to walk towards him; Hathaway recognized her as Christine Harper, Simon Monkford's sister. Lewis and Hathaway watched as she embraced her brother and led him away. Lewis shifted the car's transmission into drive. _Surely he won't try to run down Monkford?_ Hathaway felt himself clutch the emergency hand brake- just in case. When Lewis pulled away from the curb slowly and began to follow Ms. Harper's car, Hathaway had to say something. "Robbie, this is wrong. We shouldn't be doing this."

"I know. Moody will find my resignation papers on his desk this afternoon. It's what he's always wanted anyway."

"But we need to make sure that you leave on good terms. Laura would really give you a serious thrashing if you do anything that jeopardises your pension... "

"See? Now that's why I brought you along. Always thinking about the big picture, you are."

Hathaway slightly relaxed his grip on the hand brake.

Lewis surreptitiously followed the car throughout Oxfordshire until it came to rest in front of Monkford's sister's home. Lewis took a pair of binoculars out of the glove box.

"What are you doing now, Robbie? Stalking him?"

"This is no worse than that time you helped me chuck me mattress in the skip."

"With all due respect, I disagree, Robbie."

"Nope, same thing. I'm taking out the trash, James. I just want to look at him." Lewis monitored the windows for a while with his binoculars before silhouettes came into view in the front room. Lewis watched the distant silhouettes set the table and sit down to dinner. Hathaway was unconvinced that this was a healthy way of letting go.

"Robbie…" he started, but couldn't finish.

Lewis put down his binoculars and emitted a heavy sigh. Knowing that the game was up, he began to explain his motive as he had made so many suspects do over the years.

"They say 'forgive and forget' but I will never forgive. And I can't forget him as long as I'm a copper. It was one thing when I knew he was locked up. It's another if I know that he's free. If I'm working in a police station, I will forever be checking up on him- and his alias Sean Matthews- running his known addresses, his prints, just to see if there are any missteps. So this is it, James. This is the last time that I will carry a badge."

Lewis handed his binoculars to Hathaway. "We're done here. If I don't walk away now, it'll eat me up inside. Our Laura is a good lass; it's time for me to give her the life that she deserves. New Zealand was just the beginning."

Hathaway smiled to see the return of that dreamy look that Lewis had when his relationship with Hobson was new. Lewis added one more thought: "thanks, James."

"For what?"

Lewis shrugged. "Being here."

"Likewise, Robbie."

Lewis drove away, leaving the Monkford siblings in peace.

* * *

 _Returning again to the post-Tempest picnic, where Jean Innocent has just asked, "So Robbie, what finally made you decide to retire for good? I thought that policing was in your DNA."_

"He's a Genetically Modified Organism now, I guess." Hobson explained, filling the silence of Lewis' thoughtful smile.

"I always was suspicious of GMOs," Hathaway replied.

"Better living through chemistry, I always say," Hobson said as she rubbed Lewis' arm and hopped up to kiss him on the cheek.

But Innocent wasn't one to let things slide with witty banter. She wanted to hear it from Lewis. "I thought you would be a copper until the bitter end. What changed your mind?"

Lewis composed himself. He recalled Prospero, who pardons his enemies and renounces his magic at the end of the play. "As you from crimes would pardoned be, let your indulgence set me free!"

"Bravo, Robbie! I can see that Oxford has converted you into a Shakespeare aficionado after all!"

"Hardly, ma'am. Can barely follow it, me." But they all knew that behind Lewis' simple façade was a brilliant man in his own way.

"Well, must dash. Fernando and I are going to have our picnic down by the water. It was lovely seeing you all again."

As Hobson and Innocent were exchanging contact information on their phones, Lewis whispered to Hathaway. "Classic Innocent- she swoops in and makes her presence known, acts as a sounding board for you to gather your thoughts, and then she leaves you alone to do your own thing. The only time she ever got her knickers in a twist was if the press or other muckity-mucks were meddling."

"I wish Moody would bugger off that way," Hathaway agreed.

Lewis, Hobson, Hathaway and Liv Nash finished their dinner and bottle of champagne. No one was surprised to see Hobson reach into her voluminous bag and produce a second- then a third- bottle. (Though in truth, it was Hobson and Hathaway who drained the third bottle; Lewis and Nash had called it quits after the second.) By the time the third bottle was emptied, all four were laying on their backs watching the stars.

Lewis was holding Hobson's hand as they both looked skyward. "The stars here are almost as clear as they were in New Zealand, eh love?" She gave his hand an affirmative squeeze. That was what Lewis wanted to do with the rest of his life, watch the stars with Hobson. And the two of them were chuffed to bits that Hathaway had found the same comfort in Liv Nash. There had been some trials and tribulations with her niece's baby in New Zealand, but secretly Hobson was hoping that Hathaway would give her more honorary grand-babies.

There was only one mystery left for The Two Gentlemen of Oxford to solve. Lewis turned his head towards the younger detective and whispered. "James?"

"Yes, Robbie?" Hathaway answered, expecting Lewis to say something incredibly profound.

"Who the hell is Fernando? And what happened to Mr. Innocent?"

"I've sworn not to ask."

"Bugger. I guess our Laura will have to figure it out." Lewis squeezed Hobson's hand.

"You two always did need me to solve your cases." Hobson laughed.

"It's not the same without you both," Hathaway admitted.

"It never is, lad. But we all move on."

* * *

Author Note: This was the final chapter of a Series of Moments that is consistent with canon. I do have a few AU scenes that I will probably add to this series because they don't really stand on their own, but they are very much "what ifs?" So this is my ending to series 9; thanks for reading and I especially appreciate those who took the time to leave a review.

*cue the clarinets*

PS I also have added a new ending to chapter 5 of this series, Monkey See, Monkey Do in case you are interested.


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